You Are My Sunshine
by Jaina Durron
Summary: A 1940s earth AU twist on the romance of Han Solo and Leia Organa. As the world plummets into a widespread war, Han and Leia discover sides to the world that they never knew.
1. Chapter 1

**October, 1941**

 **Aldera, Minnesota, United States of America**

This land was almost a place of its own. One could pretend that it was a part of another world, apart from the continental United States. Apart from the war. It was easy to make believe that the land of 10,000 lakes had no part in the real world and its twisted workings. But that was just a dream, a fanciful illusion. Even the small towns and the farms surrounding Lake Aldera were part of the war just as everything else in this nation was. All of it, surrendered and auctioned off to opposing voices. Home was no longer seemed like home. None of it was the home that Leia Organa remembered.

It had been seized from her hands, hidden from her view. Stolen by radio announcements and newspaper clippings, the voice of Edward Murrow drifting across the airwaves, the innocence of the world then denounced. No more false peace or even cold stares traded across oceans and borders. Enough years had passed for the world to grow another generation. Another army. Another war.

No one else she knew feared the turmoils of Europe escaping across the mediating oceans, but Leia thought she could see something coming, or s _ense it,_ as her danger sense would send a cold spike up her back. No one else saw it, but she couldn't see how it could be avoided. Something about Europe's troubles, she thought, was determined to blow over. Then, this home she treasured would be further disrupted and soiled. She could hardly fathom the thought of losing anything of her home on Lake Aldera. And to the spoils of war . . .

A war, of course, nobody else feared. Americans watched the news of Europe's affairs with a certain disdained interest. With a measure of mockery, they stuck up their noses and merely raised a brow at Europe's troubles. Leia didn't understand the arrogance in this, but was always shot down when she proposed that the Americas be more concerned. A few minor run-ins with the Germans were of no concern, everyone else always insisted. Besides, they were too busy with their war. _Their war,_ Leia would then repeat to herself with a silent laugh. They called her paranoid, but she preferred the term 'cautious'. She had a favorite news clipping which she kept tucked away in a drawer- a front-page story from the _Washington New Dealer_ from a year ago bearing the headline 'War? American People Say No!' Still, Leia waited for it. So far, she'd been waiting a year. Well, just over two years now since September was a month past.  
Leia remembered September 2nd like yesterday. Her father had entered the kitchen while she and her mother were already eating breakfast and, with a heavy sigh, he dropped the morning's _New York Times_ by the milk pitcher. "It's finally come," Bail Organa announced ominously. Ignoring her mother's frantic glance, Leia quickly reached for the paper and read the headline. 'GERMANY ATTACKS POLAND; CITIES BOMBED, PORT BLOCKADED; DANZIG IS ACCEPTED INTO REICH'.

"The war's back," her father explained tersely to Breha who wore a permanent expression of dismay.

Leia frowned, dropping the paper back to the table. "Why is it back, Papa?"

"It's a matter of unfinished business, Lelila," he said, shaking his head and taking his seat at the breakfast table. "Europe can't seem to straighten out their problems."

Breha shook her head over her glass, purposefully turning her gaze from the item which was disrupting her family dinner. "Maybe, if they'd just listened to Wilson …"

"Well!" Bail raised his brows and proudly dropped the paper into the nearby trash. "Enough of that. I'm sure they'll be able to sort out their problems soon enough."

She shook the memory away, but persistent fear remained. Everyone told her that she was paranoid for no reason at all. She worried too much. The war was far away and the United States had no dealings with Europe's troubles. But war, Leia thought, was big and ugly and she didn't dare underestimate it. Maybe her home remained untouched by Germany's blitzkrieg and the ever-changing ways of the Russia, but she didn't think the world was all that small. Besides, she didn't need to be concerned for her home. There was the rest of the world for even a citizen of the largely isolationist U.S. to worry over.

Pursing her lips, Leia looked to the telegram folded in her lap. Already opened, already read. One more look out across the lake where she could see a small flock of common loons, swimming leisurely across the lake's murky surface. This was her home as much as it was theirs. Though, they had been here longer and she respected that. Leia threw her last bits of bread out into the lake before she decided she'd had her break and it was time to head back into town. She slowly pulled her feet out of the water, scooting back along the wood deck and reaching for her stockings and shoes. It was unusually warm for the fall month; the sun was hanging high and mighty, beating down. Leia thought she could walk on bare feet to the gravel road, then her feet would be dry enough for her to don her shoes.

Town wasn't far away, less than a few miles, and she walked down the back roads until she heard the familiar clamor of Chryslers and Ford convertibles on the street. Kresge's, the local five-and-dime, stood on the corner of Main Street and Broadway, pointing Leia in the direction of her family's neighborhood.

'Town' was small. Just like Audubon, Glyndon, and the handful of other towns sprinkled around it, Aldera was small. All their stores were littered across a couple streets while the farm houses were scattered across by the acres. Leia's family lived just behind "Store Street", as she called this small area. Her parents had no wealth to their names, but managed on the support of their tightly-knit community. They lived with their meager possessions in a modest home with white shutters on the canvas of a light, pastel green. It was close to the lake, but nestled safely in the middle of town. Outside their block neighborhood, farmland spanned for miles before the next town. From the edge of the block, anyone could see the rich fields, smell the nurtured soil. And Leia liked the comfort of simplicity, of her quiet small town life, but the lake kept her anchored, which was invaluable to her.

Leia followed the street- which hardly bustled with cars but people- and hopped onto the raised platform that carried all the stores on its firm planks. She loved the sound it made when her boots clapped gently against the wood, producing a full, deep sound. Something about it was oddly satisfying, so she focused her straying attention to the mild _plop_ as she went along, still trying to figure out what she would say to her parents. Leia walked around the street corner and strode straight home, tucking her telegram discreetly behind the waistband of her skirt. She pulled her sleeves back over her elbows, redoing the tiny button at the hem of her blouse sleeves. She cinched her belt again- just to be sure her letter wasn't going anywhere.

She skipped up the steps to the front door of the Organa home and opened the screen door with a whine. Awkwardly designed, the kitchen was the first area people stepped into once crossing the threshold of the front door. Breha Organa sat in her chair, looked up at Leia and the door, and sighed. "Bail! You really need to look at that door soon." She rose to her feet, tossing aside the day's paper and coming to meet her daughter at the door. "Where have you been, Lelila? A letter came in for you but I couldn't find you."

"I was at the lake, Mama," Leia told her with no guilt in her tone. She left her shoes at the door and continued to the refrigerator without stopping. "I always go to the lake."

"It's September, dear. It's getting cold and winter's coming." Breha sighed again, peering out the window as if she could see flurries of snow already drifting through the air. "You'll catch a cold like that."

"Mama! You're a teacher! You should know we still get fall before winter!"

Breha looked at her sharply, clearly disapproving of her sarcasm. "You've lived here as long as I. You should know that fall doesn't last long."

Leia threw her shoulders into an animated shrug, ducking behind the fridge door for cover. "I wasn't very cold, Mama. It was just breezy."

"Nonsense! It's getting cold! I don't think you should be going out to the lake anymore."

"Yes, Mama," she responded obediently. She found the milk pitcher and set it out on the table, but stopped short when she noticed her mother's warming gaze as it followed her. She simply raised her brows.

"You have a letter," Breha told her again, waving an envelope above her head. "Don't you want to see it?"

A rush of dread swept into her awareness, but Leia forced a curious smile and nodded, reaching for the letter. "Who is it from?"

Breha shook her head. "Not a who. A where?"

Leia felt queasy. "Well, where, then?"

Breha beamed with delight, her olive-toned cheeks illuminating with a pink blush. She hurried to the other door and called, "Bail! B, our little Lelila has another letter! Bail, come!"

Leia stifled a groan, trying to cut the pomp and ceremony as she quickly and haphazardly ripped through the envelope. _It's no big deal!_ Leia could have laughed to herself if each and every tidily sealed letter delivered to her parents' home didn't drive her mad with anxiety. _No big deal. It doesn't matter.  
_ "Who is it from?" Bail Organa asked as he hurried into the kitchen to join the scene.

"Good grief," Leia muttered. She ripped past the last section and dug out the letter. "Concordia!" she announced roughly, tossing the letter at the table. "It's just Concordia, Mama and Papa. Nothing special."

"Nothing special?" Breha spat and swept the letter from the table. "Leia, that's another college to add to the list!" She stared at the wrinkled paper, holding it firmly with both hands. "About time they sent theirs," she complained. "Took them long enough."

Leia pantomimed a headache, holding a hand to her forehead. "Mama."

"And it's not that far away either! Just a couple hours! You'd still be close enough to home to visit every few weeks maybe."

"Mom, I'm not going to Concordia."

"Goodness, it's minutes away from that school in North Dakota! You might as well go there!"

"I'm not going to North Dakota, Mom."

"Oh, Bail! What's the name of that one in ? The one we both like so much?"

"Mom! I'm not going to !" she finally blew, but laughed with a manic grin more than shouted or scorned her parents. "I'm not going to Moorhead or Fargo- or anywhere!"

Finally losing it, Breha threw the letter and stomped her foot. "Why not? Why won't you go, Leia? It's a waste! It's a waste of that big brain of yours and it's a waste of all that money you've been saving up! Leia, I wish you would go! I don't care which one you chose; I just wish you would take advantage of it! They want _you!_ And that's everything we could ever want for you! You deserve this! You deserve to go and I really wish you would!"

"I'm not going, Mom." Leia forced herself to relax. She slipped around the table, picking up the envelope and dropping it into the garbage without a thought. But she saved the letter itself. "I don't need to. I don't want to." She took her mother by her shoulders and gripped firmly, holding her undivided attention. "I don't want to go, Mama, because I love it _here._ I would miss you too much." She left a delicate kiss on Breha's cheek and slid away.

* * *

She'd left her radio on earlier, so Leia entered her small bedroom greeted by a feather breeze drifting through her window and Jimmy Dorsey's "Blue Champagne" drifting from her Firestone Air Chief. Her bed was neat and made, her nightstand and accoutrements straightened out. She was a tidy person and she kept her space meticulously kept. Everything had its place. Even her brush and makeup tools all had their specific spots on her vanity. And she had a spot for the letters, too. A box for all the letters sat in a drawer, an unorganized, glorified pile from a dozen or so different schools. Now, she added two more to the stack- one of which being her second letter from Concordia. Though, it didn't matter where it was from, which school, because she wasn't going. She pulled her telegram from behind her waistband and added that one too. Then, "Rhumboogie" replaced Jimmy and Leia's foot happily tapped to the swing melody of the sisters.

She stocked the box away, moving it to her panties drawer and burying it under a mound. Sauntering across her room to her bed, she resigned herself to lie down and rest her eyes. A subtle, oncoming headache was beginning to gnaw at the top of her forehead from the inside. Maybe, if she'd spent just another hour by the lake's shore, she might have been able to truly chase away her numbing anxiety. She should have lied, she cursed herself. Just another hour at the library as her excuse. _There was a mess- in the children's section. Half the books belonged on other shelves and it took me an hour to straighten it out!_ No, that sounded poor. Whatever excuse she could muddle her mind for, just another hour at the lake, on the dock, her feet dipping into the greenish-looking laps would surely have put her at ease. Home. She was still home and that was where she wanted to stay.

* * *

 **A.N.**

Mind me while I go through my traditional long and thought-out intro note. First and foremost, I need to thank swimmergirl71 for being a wonderful beta who had to suffer through my lack of understanding 'sentence structure'- it's a real issue as I'm sure most of you are aware. Also, thanks to her for all the research help. It's only thanks to her that this fic will even be semi-historically accurate.

More props are also due to those who are helping me learn patience. Obviously, I'm still learning- but progress!

Lastly, thanks all for reading and I hope you enjoy this story and the idea I came up with! While I'm still writing, this is so much fun and I'm so excited to share this with you all!


	2. Chapter 2

**A.N.** Just a note/warning before we proceed. Many people in our fandom community prefer to headcanon much of the Star Wars universe in a more liberal way. I love and cherish all of you and I respect that. As many of you might already be aware, I'm much more conservative- in general. For this story, I thought it would be interesting to go that route with my characterization of Leia and other details to this story. I promise it won't be in your face, but I just thought I'd warn everyone here and now. So, if a virgin Leia is simply too much for you, or even some scattered mentions of religion, I'm opening the door for you now.

P.S. I'm not saying that any of this starts in this chapter, but just putting it out there ahead of time.

Now, back to your regularly scheduled fanfic.

* * *

"The Hutt"- as he was known to his employees and, generally, half of the city of Detroit- was, frankly, a gangster. But the police hadn't gotten that far yet. He was careful, strategic, always on the move, but he moved like a phantom. Everyone knew who and what he was, but nobody had the tangible proof to pin him down. Han Solo used to dream of being the one to have that missing piece. He used to fantasize of being the one to turn in The Hutt and put an end to his operations. The Hutt wasn't entirely abominable or diabolical, but he was vile enough and he had messed up Han Solo's childhood. That was good enough for him.

No one was quite sure where that infamous Hutt had gotten his beginnings, but now he stayed in Detroit, owned an admittedly successful mechanics shop, and cheated his employees from a fair wage. Han knew. He'd spent nearly his entire life there.

Han, for one, had gotten his start on the street. Those were his earliest memories before The Hutt had picked him off the streets to work in his shop. Han had done well there. He'd learned quickly, drawing motivation from a sprouting interest in mechanics, automobile parts, and how all those parts worked in conjunction with each other. He would have enjoyed it ... in a different environment. Instead, the time-passing activity was tinted by his frustration, becoming the target of his anger rather than the source of his pleasure.

Begrudgingly, The Hutt had been paying Han for his services, but only a poor man's salary. A lonely dime with the sporadic addition of a couple pennies an hour did Han little good, so he accepted the offer The Hutt gave all his employees: his wage just about cancelled out if he wanted a sleeping space in the apartments The Hutt owned. But Han was older now, and he could do better than that. He knew he couldn't just start a rumble in Detroit and aim for taking The Hutt down. He, too, was better than that and, in all honesty, Han feared his employer's punishment. The Hutt would retaliate. He always did.

So, the shadow of a man worked the day job of a owner of a mechanic shop- Mos Eisley- living off the wealth of what he didn't pay his honest workers. And he earned more than his fair portion from this, too. On the sly, though, everyone had a pretty good idea of his operations as a drug dealer. Han knew better than most because that second job was what had provided him with just enough money to flee Detroit.

Running away had really been a necessity, the distant bright light Han had been steering toward for all these years. It had just been a matter of time and collecting enough paychecks to scavenge the necessary resources needed to initiate his escape plan. Han had waited so long for that day. It had taken all his will to wait through his shift at Mos Eisley Mechanic Shop before tearing down the bustling streets and leaving Detroit far behind. Nothing had ever made him happier. Nothing, that was, until he found a new home. When he came to Monroe near the southern border of the state, he met a man named Lando Cal. Young was a little younger than Han himself, but he was the flamboyant and all-too-friendly owner of the Besp-Inn. This would be the first place Han would remotely consider home. And he eagerly did for a time, valuing the comfy mattress and free breakfast buffet Lando offered him in exchange that he help out at the inn. After a tournament of card games which he'd hosted at his inn, Lando had even rewarded Han with a fine beauty of a Ford, a pickup Lando had affectionately named the Falcon. The Millennium Falcon. Millennium, Lando had explained, because the rickety piece of machinery already had some wear on it, but she never disappointed and was sure to last another lifetime. Falcon because she flew like a beauty. Han, however, had been less than impressed by the junky piece of 'transportation' until Lando brought him over and began sweet-talking the hunk until it looked to Han like a million bucks. "She's a tough one," Lando had sweet-talked the automobile to him, pointing out the beauty in the small lot. "She's almost seen the scrapper, but you'd be surprised how much fight she's got left in her." And Lando had praised the pickup with such a fatherly proud smile that Han had immediately taken him up on his offer and practically lunged for the keys. She was a _real_ beauty, alright.

Han had escaped, once again, in the Falcon when Lando had suddenly turned on him and The Hutt returned, at Han's tail.

Now, Han was back to running- which he had been expecting since before he arrived in Monroe. But this was where his "big plan" got blurry, and he really didn't know where he hoped to end up. All he knew was that he hadn't yet stopped running.

Since fleeing Monroe, he'd taken several different odd jobs for no longer than a few weeks at a time. No connections, no obligations- exactly the free life he wanted. He'd found a few factory jobs, considering himself lucky to find that much. With those sparse earnings, Han kept running. A few months into his wandering now, Han found himself trailing his way farther north than he would prefer his weather, but he was running low on money and he really didn't have many choices. _Just another quick stop,_ he promised himself. Then, he'd be hightailing it south again. Maybe, he'd start for Nebraska this time. That was quite a lofty aspiration- Han just hoped the Falcon could make it.

* * *

Keeping one eye on the empty road ahead of him, Han cast a glance to the gauges at his side, then swore. His gas tank was nearly empty and Han still didn't detect any signs of life aside from him as he clunked along this lonely road. Not even a farm was in sight between the endless fields of gold and green.

Han wasn't sure about the exact distance between Michigan and wherever he was now, but the Falcon had only lasted until reaching a few miles past the Minnesota border and he thought that wasn't far enough. The Mississippi was a good couple-hour drive behind him and it had been that reference point from which Han had been trying to find Minneapolis, but he was starting to see how south he'd missed it. Instead of the familiar comfort of a city, something close to resembling his old home, he was lost again in a sea of grain, corn, and unpaved, gravel roads. For the last couple hours, he'd been able to hear the crackling sound of the gravel getting kicked around by his tires, spraying the Falcon's belly with its grainy particles. It was an irritating sound, he thought, but he didn't have to worry about it anymore.

He sighed, irritatedly, throwing his oily rag at the road. It took all his will not to punish the non-functioning car with a kick. Because that was sure to fix it. Chewie was staring at him from the passenger seat, like he was there for the entertainment. Han figured that, if he was the one to represent the human population to a dog, he wasn't doing his kind any favors. Whenever Chewie got that look, which was quite often, Han would always imagine what the dog was thinking about him. _Gas, cub. The car needs gas._ "Yeah, but I can't get gas!" Han shouted back at him. Chewie was tough- tougher than the Falcon. He could take it. "I can fix just about anything if it broke, but I can't get gas right now."

Chewie's tongue fell from his mouth and he panted before ducking back inside. Han sighed again, fuming. "Come on, Chewie. You're helping me push."

* * *

Han found the mile marker hidden by a bush long grass on the side of the road, coincidentally framed by a few lady slippers. He would have missed the unassuming town sign if he hadn't been looking for it, but there it sat, between the gravel road and the serene lake, practically screaming 'small town'. The two by four plank read 'Welcome to Aldera, a Peaceful People'.


	3. Chapter 3

**A.N.:** Yeah, yeah! Another author's note, I know. I thought I'd explain that this story will often feature snippets of conversations in Spanish. When necessary, I will leave a mini Spanish-English dictionary at the end of the chapter.

To any native Spanish speakers who may be reading this story, if there is ever any phrase or word or anything in your beautiful tongue that I mess up- please tell me! Sé un poco de español. Lo siento.

* * *

The morning light hadn't yet come, so Leia took her steps carefully as she crept into her parents' bedroom. She was ready to leave, with her shoes on, her favorite white coat draped over her arm, but she could never leave without first saying goodbye. The door had given a shy creak when she'd opened it and now Breha moaned as she turned over in bed. "Buenos dias, mija."

"Good morning, Mama." Leia knelt at her mother's side and leaned over her to leave a kiss on her cheek. "I'm leaving now."

Breha nodded, her eyes closing for a moment as she tried to wake up. "Of course. You go- if it's time. Papa's wallet is by the fruit bowl in the kitchen if you need money. Para almuerzo."

"That's alright, Mama. I have money for lunch."

Breha waved a dismissive hand, her eyes unwilling to reopen. "Eso- es bueno." She gently patted the hand that Leia had lying on the edge of the mattress. "Have a good day, Lelila. Te amo."

Leia smiled. She stood, leaned down to give Breha another kiss, and responded, "Te quiero también, Mamá." Breha smiled warmly, squeezing her hand before turning back over to fall asleep. Leia stepped back, watching her father and mother in their peaceful slumber. Sleep, she thought, is innocence, and Bail and Breha's minds were clear, undisturbed, carefree. Leia never understood how they had never been plagued by the same fears that tormented her. How was it that they didn't worry? What about the world did they not understand? Why didn't they share the fears that haunted their daughter on a nightly basis? What about life didn't make sense to them that they could keep on waking up every day without a care in the world? Leia was always afraid, always worried. And that was what made every morning so difficult. This part hurt every time. The leaving.

Leia shook her head at herself, quickly turning and disappearing from the room. She slipped her arms through her coat sleeves, threw her purse up her arm and hurried out the door into the chilly morning.

Nearly every weekday morning, Leia's day began like this- with a morning shift at the library. Every day, she would loan out books, catalogue every name and due date, and somehow still find the time to snag a book for herself to read. Leia very much enjoyed reading. She valued knowledge and the chance to fill her brain with new and interesting tidbits of information every day. Among her favorite subjects were history, politics, and the expansive topic of culture in general. She couldn't say that she had a favorite writer, though she greatly appreciated the works of writers like Shakespeare and Jane Austen, but she could always find something to appreciate about every author. She'd sparsely come across a title she didn't like and she enjoyed every book she found in its own right. She supposed she'd gained this love from her mother who held the values of education and knowledge on gold pedestals, regarding them each with such a respect that Leia had never taken it for granted. It was from her mother that Leia had learned to value the gift of education and learned to _love_ learning. Her mother had taught her to see its value.

She'd learned to read at her mother's side, practically helped teach _Breha_ who had still been learning to read English when Leia had gotten ahead of the curb. Their neighbor, , had always been so kind to the Organas. She used to come to their home every afternoon to teach Bail and Breha to read and write in English, and a barely five-year-old Leia had eagerly and attentively sat in on every lesson, learning with them. To such a little Leia, words, sentences, and pages in a book had looked like an intriguing challenge, and she'd accepted every new trial with an unquenched fervor to learn.

Breha Organa had always given her sermons on how lucky they were and on the importance of a good education. Leia had taken those words to heart coming from her mother's context, and had- if only for her- put all her effort into every day of school from her first day of kindergarten to the last day of her senior year.

It made her feel like she must be a disappointment in her parents' eyes now, especially to her mother. Her hard work in school had certainly paid off; she had her pick of nearly any college she could possibly want to attend- and she had no plans to go anywhere. She saw the dismay in her mother's eyes every time a letter arrived in their mailbox and Leia firmly restated her choice to end her education with merely her diploma.

"But you could do so much more!" Breha would cry in frustration. "You're so much smarter than that, Lelila! Why wouldn't you take advantage of this? You always have since you started in primary school!"

It hurt Leia every time to see how distressed her mother was, how disappointed she seemed to be in this new Leia. Like time had slipped away and now she didn't recognize her. Then, Leia always had to make it worse with whatever excuse she could muddle her brain for. "Mama, I just don't want that. I don't need it. I'm glad to finally be done with school." That last one was a lie and her mother always knew it. Because she'd gotten her love for learning from her. Every lie she gave was weaker than the last, but they were the only excuses Leia had to give. The truth seemed to get locked up in her chest, stuck inside, so she kept it to herself. Her parents didn't need to hear the truth. It would only hurt them more.

Perhaps this was what Leia loved most about her job. Within herself, she still held the desire to learn about and absorb as much of this great big world as she could from her tiny place in Aldera. She loved finding a new book every day, opening to a crisp new page, and finding something she didn't yet know. Still, Leia knew it was a sorry excuse for a post-high school education. Every book, every page hardly meant a thing, but she would keep on pretending that they did.

The library wasn't actually in Aldera, but a few miles away in a slightly bigger town. Every morning, she would drive herself several miles out of Aldera to Richville, which was, by no means, a large town or even a city. However, it was considerably larger than Aldera, with at least twice the latter's double-digit population as well as more buildings, restaurants, and public properties, such as the half-decent library where Leia worked. It even had a few gas stations and a mechanics shop. The amenities, opportunities, and energy of Richville intrigued Leia, who enjoyed visiting bigger towns and even longed to explore an actual city in California or New York at some point. Richville, however, lacked something that defined Aldera, something that Leia did not take for granted- a sense of community. It was what made Aldera home.

As if to emphasize the contrast between the neighboring towns, there was some distance between them. Half an hour of a drive out of Aldera, that is. But in between Richville and Aldera- was nothing but farmland, fields upon fields of growing crops. And as she drove down the straight road, Leia could put a name to every field's owner. There was comfort in familiarity. Other than those fields, there were no buildings, no rest stops, or public utilities. No place to glanced at the gauges just to her right. Her family really didn't use their car that often, but Bail had used it last for a brief trip to Moorhead. He had refilled the gas tank, hadn't he? Leia took her eyes off the road for a moment and looked. Sealing her lips into a thin line, she managed only to sigh and congratulated herself when no colorful curses followed. "Papa!" She bit her lip and gripped the steering wheel harshly. Leia leaned over the wheel, looking for the next mile marker as she wondered how far from town she still was. Her parents hardly ever drove, she reminded herself in an attempt to push her last bits of frustration away. They weren't used to checking over the systems and filling it with gas. They forgot she drove to work every morning. It didn't matter because she couldn't blame them. She could only pray that the few millimeters between the red ticker and the letter 'E' really counted for as much as Leia was hoping.

Just as she tore her gaze away from the gauge and back to the road, Glenn Miller started playing on the radio. Leia shook her head. Everybody loved Glenn Miller. How could they not? But no, she had gotten sick of the wordless tunes since his hit from a couple years ago had invaded the radio and _everyone_ had to play them. Leia quickly turned off the radio and growled through her teeth. It was going to be a long drive.

* * *

Leia was starting to consider the idea of kicking off her heels and pitting her bare feet against the hard, paved roadway for traction. Clearly, her polished white heels weren't doing the job. She eyed her watch. She was already late. Maybe, she should just start walking. She had no hopes of pushing her Chevrolet into town by herself. She had a bit of muscle built up, but this was at least a two-person job. _No,_ she shook her head and paused, drawing in a long, calming breath. _I got this. I don't need help. I'm by myself, so I have to rely on myself. I got this._

* * *

All Han needed was a few extra bucks. Just enough to keep going for a while and he'd be well on his way, leaving this tiny town far behind. Back to his never ending search for nothing. He wouldn't be stuck here for long, though, he promised himself.

It was with these thoughts of that insurmountable reward- sweet freedom- that he saw her. Or, rather, her car. He only found the petite woman after the vehicle sitting in the middle of the road caught his attention and he surveyed the scene for a victim. And there she was, lying on the ground, half of her body hidden beneath the car. All that Han could see of her were her legs- no shoes, just a gray skirt. She hugged the loose fabric between her bent knees for cover. Was she- working?

Han slowed his truck until he pulled to the right side of the empty road and came to a stop. He stepped out and slowly approached the Chevrolet. "Hey!"

One of her legs jumped, kicking against the car before she carefully pulled herself out. She was a small thing, a stick figure without any real weight to her. She was skinny, but not unhealthily so. She had a fairly pale complexion, pleasantly contrasting her dark, brunette hair. She had her hair pulled back, every strand neatly combed (with the exception of a few loose ones at her forehead), tied into an elaborate braid that framed her head like a crown. Like she was some princess. Han grinned at the thought. _A princess. Hiding beneath a car._ "Hey. Can I help you at all?"

She frowned fiercely, raising her arms to cross them. Quickly, her gaze ran him up and down. "Does it look like I need help?"

Han snorted. "Yeah."

Her nose crinkled for a second as a frown grew on her face. "Get lost, flyboy. I can handle myself just fine, thanks." And with that, she was crawling back beneath the car. Han sighed, dropping his head into one hand. "H-hey! Would you get out from under there already! You're going to hurt yourself."

"I'm just fine!"

"I could probably fix your car for you."

"Did I ask you to help me? I can do it myself."

Simply and outright ignoring her, Han dropped his keys beside a tire, then kneeled over and joined the young woman on the ground. "What's wrong with it? Is it a tire?"

"It was just the gas." She sat back up and quirked a brow. "But then I heard a thump."

"A thump?"

She walked around to the trunk and popped the lid, sighing to herself. She was always mindful to keep things like a first-aid kit, water, and blankets in there. And, to her relief, a gallon of gas. To the man, she nodded. "And I knew I must have hit something sharp."

"A nail, maybe?" he offered as he stood and followed her.

She shrugged. "Maybe. Whatever it was, it's just my luck."

"I dunno'. You're pretty lucky I got here." He reached across her to take the jug from her. She snatched it away, tossing a ferocious scowl his way, and walked back to the side of the Chevrolet. "Lucky why? You think I'm helpless?" She set the gallon on the ground and went back to the trunk again.

"Well, you're gonna' need help with that." He pointed to the ground. "And that tire. If you look in the back of your trunk, you should find something that can lift your car. So it's easier to take off the tires? It's called-"

"A jack?" She actually smirked at him, rather proud of herself.

Han just nodded. "Yeah."

"I know," she laughed to herself. She had successfully found said tool and hung it on one hand like it fit there. "I'm not helpless."

"Okay." He watched her with something like intrigue as she continued her work and set about positioning the jack and cranking it. After a minute or two of her hands working the machinery, cranking the jack had almost lifted the wheel off the ground, she glanced over her shoulder and laughed at him. It was only at that moment that Han realized he was gaping. Slack-jawed over a woman who knew how to work.

After several minutes of a laborious struggle, beads of sweat began to gather at the back of her neck. Han knelt at her side and reached for the crank. "Alright, Princess. I'm impressed. Now, let me finish this up for you."

But she was quick- and harsh- to shake him off. "I got it. Did I ask for your help?"

"You know, it's okay to. It's not easy to do this."

"For some people."

"What? You think you're above everyone else?"

She appeared genuinely offended and only paused her work then. Han seized the chance and gently took the tools from her small hands. "No," she whispered. "I just-"  
"Need to learn how to accep-"

"I don't. _Need your help."_

By now, Han had learned. This time, he didn't respond, just nodded. "So. You have a name, Princess?"

"Leia. And you?"

"Solo." He wiped his brow then stuck out a greasy hand. "Han Solo."

"You're not from around here, are you?"

"Nope. Is it obvious?"

"You don't have the usual accent."

"Ahh. All the 'you betcha's' and 'uff-da's'."

"Well, they have a tendency to just slip in. Where are you from, then?"

"Ah, I don't know. I've been moving around for a long time."

"Well, where were you before now? And what brings you here?"

"Michigan." He added smoothly, "And travel writing."

She exhaled through her nose, laughing. "Writing?"

"What? You don't believe me?"

"I'd just as soon kiss that big dog of yours."

Without looking away from his work, Han responded, not missing a beat, "I would advise against that. He bites."

"What? This handsome fella'?"

Han realized that Leia was no longer standing next to him and so he looked only then and watched her approach the driver's window where Chewie was hanging his head. She took hold of him, shaking his fur and petting him. "He's a very pretty dog, actually. What breed is he? And what's his name?"

"Chewie. He's an Alaskan Malamute."

"That's what I thought. He is very pretty."

 _Pretty?_ Han was almost disgusted and he glanced over his shoulder to take his own look at Chewie. The great dog was panting with excitement as Leia ruffled his fur and cooed to him. His tongue hung from his mouth in satisfaction.

"Alright. I think he's had enough."

Leia smiled at him, almost laughing again. She gave Chewie one last affectionate pet before returning to Han's side. "Why are you actually here?"

Han shrugged. "Looking for a change in scenery, I guess. I like moving around."

"Hm. I was just wondering. Most people don't plan on staying around these parts for very long. Especially right when the winter season is about to come."

"Yeah, well, I don't plan on staying that long either."

"That's unfortunate. Aldera really is nice."

Han looked around- at the expansive, green fields. "This is Aldera?"

"This is the in between. The next town is still a few miles out. Richville."

"That where you were headed?"

She nodded. "I have a job at the library in town." She watched over his shoulder, noting that he'd successfully finished the job- at least, the one part Leia had struggled with. She stepped over him and took the tools back. "I can finish." She tightened the last bolts over the tire in awkward silence and Han watched her the entire time. "But thank you for the help," she muttered. Han smiled to himself.

She finished the job quickly, then brushed off the weird moment, hopping into the front seat of her Chevrolet. She dug around for a moment before popping back up and smirking at him. "Here." She tossed him something and Han, surrendering to instinct, threw his hands out and perfectly caught it. He cupped it in his hands to see. A mint. "Thought you looked tired," the young woman teased. He shook his head. "Sure, Princess."

"I believe we already traded names."

He winked at her and, in a flash, Leia's face bloomed with a rosy flush. "I've never been very good with names," he told her. Then, he was off, stalking back to his own truck and leaving the princess behind.

* * *

Only to herself could Leia admit that she was- intrigued? Perhaps. Solo was certainly an interesting character. He was private, yet boisterous, and though she couldn't say she had really learned something about him, he didn't strike her as the mystery man sort of person. He didn't seem like a mystery. Rather, Leia just had yet to acquaint herself with him. Something told her it didn't take much to get to know him very well.

* * *

At noon, the Corusca Diner was the center of town. It stood on a corner of town, opposite on the street from Kresge's. The Darklighter family owned it and they opened just before the lunch rush when workers were well hungry.

It was an odd place, always busy and boisterous- sometimes even a little rowdy. It was the one place in town that didn't scream 'small town' and Leia figured that was what made it so popular in Aldera. The Corusca served the American dream in red, diamond baskets: thick, shiny burgers, salty fries, the thickest malts- and the Darklighters always kept enough Cokes cold for the lunch rush. And when the small hand reached for the 12, the jukebox began playing and wouldn't rest until Mr. Darklighter put out the closed sign. Until night, the lights were on and everyone was dancing to Glenn Miller's newest hit.

Every morning that Leia worked her quiet job at the library, she'd end her shift for a late lunch with some friends at that diner. A good, greasy burger piled high with lettuce, tomatoes, pickles, onions, American cheese, and two strips of bacon. That with some fries and a cold pop to wash it down and Leia was ready to march back home.

Another Glenn Miller hit was rocking the jukebox as Leia walked into the Corusca and her eyes rolled in annoyance. She stalked over to the front counter, shaking her head. "Who started this?" she asked as she approached Iella and Mirax who were saving her a seat.

"Wedge," Iella- a black-haired woman with a heavier, curved figure- informed her, tossing a smirk over the counter. "But Wes is the one who's insisted on keeping it going."

"How long?"

"It started just before we got here. And he has the cache full for the next ten minutes."

Mirax rolled her eyes. "At least."

Leia shot a deadly glare past her shoulder, seeking out Wes Jensen whom she swore to kill. "He's dead to me," she hissed.

"Gee, honey." Mirax grabbed her shoulder. "What did Glenn Miller do to you?"

Leia ignored her, turning back to the counter before her. She leaned over the red-painted countertop and hollered, "Wedge! I know you're back there."

Quickly, Wedge appeared from the back kitchen. He came out wearing a scowl purposefully directed at Leia. "You're late," he complained. "What do you want?"

"Is Jensen closing tonight?"

Wedge's look suddenly turned mockingly hostile as he found Jensen near the other end of the restaurant, cleaning up the back tables. "No, but I think that's going to change soon."

"I need some nickels."

"What?" Wedge walked up to the counter and Leia pointed to the register. "Do you have a roll of nickels?"

Wedge watched her with growing suspicion. "What do you need a roll of nickels for?"

"Trust me, you'll appreciate my efforts. Now, just give me a roll of nickels." She waited, pulling out a couple crumpled dollar bills from her purse. She slid them across the counter and Wedge, warily, gave Leia her nickels.

"What do you need change for?"

"Don't you worry about it. I'm going to teach Wes a little lesson." But Leia only pocketed the change and turned back to Wedge. "I'm ready to order."

Wedge seemed baffled. "What did you need the change for?"

"I said not to worry about it. Now, I'll take the usual please."

Wedge rolled his eyes in exasperation, taking a tub of dirty dishes from the counter and disappearing again.

Leia took out her nickels again, laid them on the counter and began counting off on her fingers.

"So." Mirax poked her shoulder. "What's got you in a mood? Loud day at the library?"

Iella silently snickered.

"My car broke down while I was driving to work. Mr. Rogers let me take his Sedan for now, but I have to go back in later for a report on the repairs it needs."

"Oh, come on, Leia. Old Bessy has lasted almost ten years! You should have known this would be coming soon enough."

Leia shook her head, itching at her temple. "Her name is Esperanza- not Bessy. And I don't want to think about replacing her now. Papa loves that stupid, old car. I have no idea why, but . . . "

Wedge came back with Leia's usual order and set it before her, pulling a napkin from behind the till, then reached into the refrigerator behind him for a Coke. "Moderation," he cautioned Leia. He predicted her hand would shoot out and when she followed through, Wedge smoothly slid the pop bottle out of her reach.

"Heeey!" Leia's arm nearly snapped out of its socket as she shot her arm across the counter. "I don't appreciate this poor customer service. I'm thinking I might leave a complaint."

"Sure you would! And where do you plan on getting your daily afternoon Coke from? You wouldn't betray us!"

Leia's look turned stunningly icy. "Don't you dare come between me and my Coke again."

With a long, drawn out huff, Wedge returned the bottle to her hand. "So-rry."

Leia shook her head in exasperation. "I thought I had a flat tire."

"You didn't?"

"I did. And something about the oil and-" She muttered an obscenity so that they couldn't hear, but Mirax thought she caught it and raised a mocking brow.

"I'm sorry. It's been a long day."

"Ha!" Mirax suddenly cried out. "I think it just got a lot shorter. Leia looked up too. The music and tone of the jukebox had shifted. A different song was playing. No longer was Glenn Miller's blasted trombone bouncing off every wall, but Bing Crosby was playing with his own rendition of "You Are My Sunshine". Involuntarily, Leia's feet began tapping against her stool's legs, cheering to the happy melody. She paused, twisting her body to peer back at the unassuming jukebox standing in the corner of the room.  
"What? Something wrong about this song too?" Iella teased, watching her.

Barely aware that she'd been spoken to, Leia shook her head. "No. It's just- I don't understand this song. I don't think anyone else understands this song, either. The melody is so upbeat and happy and everyone dances to it and smiles but-"

Iella raised her brows.

"Does anyone hear the lyrics? It's not a happy song at all."

Iella and Mirax paused, trading a look with each other before they considered it, humoring their friend.

Then, Leia turned back to them, almost laughing in her confusion. "Don't you hear it?"

Mirax uttered a small sigh, her shoulders falling in defeat. "Well, yeah, but- isn't it a happy song?" She growled. "Leia, it's just a song! It's a happy song and it's fun and people like to dance to it." She bounced off her seat and looked at Leia with a stern look. "So, don't you dare ruin it for everyone else. Miss Melancholy."

"Melancholy?"

Without looking up from her own food, Mirax added quietly, "Or just 'depressed'."

"I'm not depressed!"

"Then, cool down!" Mirax seized her arm and locked gazes with her best friend, holding her attention. "You know that you can talk to us if you need anything. Anything at all. I know things your parents' place can get difficult sometimes-"

"I'm fine," Leia insisted, shaking her head and gently freeing her arm from Mirax's grasp. "If I did need your help, you know I would come to you and Iella. I always do."

Mirax's gaze slipped away and she shrugged. "You always come to us when you realize you need help, but you don't always come to us when you need it. You don't always like to admit that you need it. Really, Leia. We're here for you and your family. Just say the word."

Leia nodded. "I'm fine. Really."

"That's it. I'm taking you home."

"That's not necessary."

"Come on. I haven't even seen your parents in _weeks."_

"Fine." Leia slid off her stool and bee-lined for the back of the diner. She dug out Wedge's nickels from her pocket and counted over them again. "But wait for me. I have a little something I need to do before I leave."

* * *

 **Spanish-English Dictionary**

 ** _Eso es bueno-_** that's good

 _ **Para almuerzo-**_ for lunch

 _ **Buenos dias-**_ good morning

 ** _Mija_** \- term of endearment

 ** _Te amo_** \- I love you

 ** _Te quiero también_** \- I love you too


	4. Chapter 4

The old Chevrolet was stuck in the shop, left to someone who would be sure to pick up every dent and showcase a hefty bill for Leia when she returned the next evening. But Leia had some time until then. For now, all she could do was gently explain to her parents that they were without a vehicle for the time being and that they would have to find other means of getting to their jobs and stopping by the grocery store in Richville. _But they are not taking the bus,_ Leia swore. She knew she would have to prepare an argument- and a mighty strong one too. There was no way that she was going to let her parents take rides by means of public transportation. She hardly trusted them with the car!

Leia took a long breath as Mirax pulled her car up to the curb. Mirax put the vehicle in park, allowing her a moment. "Do you need me to come in with you?"

She shook her head, reaching to click open the buckle at her hip. "That's alright. I'll be fine. By the way, thanks for the ride."

"Of course!" Mirax watched her for a moment, sealing her lips into a fine line. "Are you sure there isn't any way I can help you at all?"

Leia shook her head again. She gently pushed her door open and got out. "Really, I appreciate your support, but I need to handle this. Besides, it's not that bad."

"Alright. If you need help, though-"

Leia almost laughed as she leaned over the door and raised her brows at her friend. "Get out of here before one of the neighbors calls your parents. I really don't want to deal with that again."

In a flash, Mirax's expression turned apologetic in memory. "I would hate to do that to you again." She gripped the steering wheel before her and turned the key. "Alright, I'm leaving. But if you need help with anything, don't hesitate to call."

"Of course." Leia started up the walkway to the front door as she listened to the car disappear down the street. The kitchen light was on; she could see that much before she came to the door. She could see the shadows of her parents dancing across the kitchen, and as she neared the front steps, she heard their laughter float along a breeze of tranquility. Peace, love, undisturbed joy. She wished it could sweep over her, take her down with it, erase her mind of every doubt and fear bubbling inside her, but the qualms were strong today and even the crescendoing Latin music struggled to bring a real smile to her lips.

The one thing she loved most about her family's traditional Latin American dishes was the diversity of flavor and, merely crossing through the doorway, her senses were pleasantly overwhelmed by the onslaught of a dozen foreign seasonings. _This_ was the America Leia had grown up in.

She supposed her parents' cultures had been a strong influence on her growing up. American swing and jazz were grounded into her by her surroundings, everywhere she went, and that was her world. But home was where the mambo played endlessly and her parents would swing around the living room, dancing to their own laughter.  
Her mother stood before the stove and her father stood close behind, his arms wrapped around her, swaying to whatever record was spinning. Since she was little, Leia had always loved listening to her daddy sing. His accented, foreign timbre, smoky smooth and rolling rapid, had been a sort of intrigue to her younger self. No one spoke like her parents. No one laughed or sang like them. No one rolled and made such beautiful r's or melted l's into soft, fluid y's. The Spanish tongue was such a delicate and beautiful thing and she enjoyed speaking in it around her parents. It was something special that she could share with them- something almost sacred that was reserved for just the three of them, something no one else in their entire town could understand.

The Organas still lived fully in their native culture. Bail had been raised on the island of Puerto Rico and Breha in Cuba. They hadn't ever told the full story to their daughter, but Leia only knew that they'd come to the United States as immigrants shortly before they'd found and adopted her. She knew immersion into the American culture had been difficult for them and they'd desperately clung to their familiar ways with a certain devotion, like they couldn't bear to leave home entirely.

"¡Basta!" Breha cried in a fit of breath-stealing laughter. Bail's hands were trailing from her hips up her sides, tickling her. She swung the wooden spoon she held at his hand, sending droplets of some wet seasoning across his arm. For just a second, Leia stood there to watch them, but Breha noticed all too quickly that she had returned. Smoothly, she slid out of her husband's arms and waved to Leia. "¡Mija! You're back early. Is everything alright?"

"Straight to the point as ever, huh, Mama?" Leia leaned toward her, pressing her cheek to her mother's right one and puckering her lips.

"¿Por que . . . ¿Qué pasó? ¿Estás bien?"

"¡Estoy bien, Mamá! No te preocupes por mí. El coche se averió en el camino. Mirax me llevó a casa."

"¿Estás herido?"

"No hubo un accidente. Solomente- el coche."

"¿El coche? ¿Todavía funciona?"

Leia shrugged. "No sé." She stopped, thinking to herself for a moment. When the word wouldn't come to her, Leia sighed and started over in English. "I was just driving to work when the car stalled. I went to a mechanic shop in Richville and they brought the car in. I'll have to go back in tomorrow to see if they should fix it or if we need a new car."

"A new car?" Breha seemed so astonished. "I don't get what's wrong with Esperanza. She's always worked just fine."

"Mamá, Mr. Rogers has been complaining for three months that our car rattles."

Breha's eyes bloomed round and wide. "Well, that's just the engine, dear!"

For a moment, Leia was honestly amused and it took nearly every ounce of her will not to smile at her mother. "We've had that car for nearly ten years! This was bound to happen eventually."

"You didn't have to take it into a shop," Bail insisted. "I could have looked at it."

Leia almost laughed again. She threw her arms around her father and hugged him tightly. "Papá, I think Mamá would have more luck with a car than you would," she giggled and Bail's chest rumbled with a deep chuckle as he agreed.

Breha Organa raised her brows shortly as she turned away. "Probablemente."

Bail took Leia's shoulders and she stepped back to look at him. "What shop did you take it into? I'll have to pay them."

Leia shook her head. "Don't worry about that. I can take care of the bill."

Both of her parents went quiet. Leia swallowed, easily deciphering the silence. She watched her mother carefully as she planted a hand against her side and braced herself against a chair with the other. "I'm not so sure, Lelila. That's a lot of money to throw away."

"I wouldn't be throwing money away. I'd be getting the car fixed. Then, you two wouldn't have to worry about it." She ended her argument with a pointed shrug but her confidence fell with the look that passed between Bail and Breha. Tilted heads, down-turned mouths, disappointed eyes. She chose to ignore it.

"Anyway," she swallowed. "Qué estás haciendo para cenar?" She leaned over the stovetop, glanced into the pot. "Arroz con salchichas?"

Breha simply looked at her, instilling a knowing glint into her gaze. "Papa and I are paying for the car."  
"No, you're not."

"That's good money you'll need one day."

"And what about you?"

Breha shook her head, reaching for Leia's arm to take her purse. "Don't worry about us, Lelila. It's our job to worry about you." With three fingers, she firmly grabbed hold of her chin. "Okay?"

 _Latina moms._ Leia stifled a sigh, suddenly melting under her mother's impervious gaze. Her cheek twitched and she nodded shortly. "Mmhm." When Breha didn't let go, Leia added, "Okay." Then, Breha's fingers trailed off her chin softly, losing all their prior sternness. She gave a jerk of her head, telling her, "Ve a llavarte las manos. Porfa."

* * *

Esperanza was like those leftovers from who-knows-when that have been stuck in the back of the refrigerator for a little less than who-knows-how-long-ago. Everyone was well aware of her age and wear, but she had been plucked from a used-car lot with no exact timetable. All Leia knew was that Esperanza had been faithfully serving the Organas for six years. Just in time, Leia had learned to drive when her parents had managed to save enough for that first car. She may have been the cheapest in the lot, but she was something and her parents had scarcely been prouder.

In the last several years, she had used the car more often than her parents. She'd soon learned to drive with that first car. Even before that, she could recall plenty of little trips during school breaks when her parents would borrow Mrs. Jorgensen's rattle-trap Lincoln and they would just drive with no destination in mind. Leia would stare out the window with her nose pressed to the glass while she and her father would play "I Spy" in the middle of nowhere.

She remembered being a small child and begging to go on a road trip to _somewhere_ \- to the state fair, in particular. Every other child in her class got to go and she would beg her father and mother to take her until her father would manage to distract her with a reminder of their annual trip to nowhere. "Did you forget "I Spy", Lelila?" Bail would ask her, scooping her into his arms and tickling her small belly. "I bet I'll find the first lady slipper before you this year."

With that first car, though, Leia had hoped for a little more. A little more of life, perhaps. A little more than Aldera. Even the fair. But, she supposed, old Esperanza had lived a long, glorious life and this time had been destined to come.

The bus shifted as it came to a complete stop. Leia rocked in her seat, waiting until it finally settled. In a grumble over the speakers, the driver announced the stop and Leia rose from her seat. She muttered a 'thank you' to him as she passed.

The bus left her on the street corner, across the street from where the small Richville Public Library sat. It was a squat building, a solid block of brick, longer and wider than it was tall, and it was worn, its slabs dirty and chipped. It had certainly seen better days. They hadn't gotten much funding in several years, and the inside didn't look much better. Yet, still, this unattractive, shabby structure had to be one of Leia's favorite places, not that she'd seen many, because the knowledge within it brought the world to her.

She was always the first to arrive in the morning, so she'd been entrusted with the keys and placed in charge of opening the library with every sunrise. This morning, the bus had managed to drop her off ten minutes early, but she didn't bother to lock the doors behind her when she entered. She wouldn't mind if anyone wanted to take advantage. Leia strode over to the front desk, setting her things around her. She shrugged off her coat and hung it over the back of her chair, dropped the keys into her purse, and hid her purse in a drawer. The first item of her morning routine was always to check the catalogue and she did so now, perusing the neat list of names she'd made herself for every person who owed back a book. Noticing her own name, she grabbed a thick hardcover from her bag and returned it to its rightful place in the history section. Last week's book had been a lesson on the war of twenty-something years ago and Leia was usually intrigued by that subject, but she found herself fading out of the mood, instead preferring a fiction piece this time. She thought she remembered a Hemingway novel she hadn't yet read … So, Leia sauntered to the appropriate shelf, found a new read, and settled back behind the desk for another quiet day.

* * *

It was three hours into her shift- and halfway through a new Hemingway- that the library was proving to be anything _but_ quiet. Actually, the source of annoyance wasn't in the library but close enough outside that it was disrupting the entire place.

Leia had caught a break after a busy hour when a flock of students seeking sources for their papers had kept her attention. Leia was just getting back into her book when her ears rang in objection to the blaring jams of a popular Glenn Miller tune. She only recognized it from the few unfortunate times she'd had to endure the three minutes of blaring trombone.

Leia's neck snapped up and she glared at the door, waiting a moment for it to stop. Surely, no one could be so inconsiderate. This was a library!  
She could feel everyone else's attention fixed to the door, waiting, glaring, impatience quickly building. It ought to end soon enough, she swore. Whoever it was must just be passing and how awful would it look for Leia to just march out there and scream at a car as it ran by. But it wasn't stopping nor fading. Glenn Miller played on, happily setting the mood.

Leia growled, finally slamming her book on the desk and storming from her seat. The nerve of this- whoever it was! Who did this person think they were, disrupting public places with their music, just blaring it down the street. Didn't think to care? Care to stop? Turn it down? Couldn't keep it to himself, of course. No, he was just so generous he had to share it with the entire street! Maybe, it was a new car, a nicer radio, and someone felt like boasting. Whatever vain excuse there was to be said, Leia had a few choice words of her own, ready and loaded in her own arsenal.

She already had her speech prepared as she came marching briskly down the steps of the library, the pompous music throbbing in her ears. How awful the sound, it only proved to make Leia angrier. Briskly, she skipped down the steps before her heels started clapping against the pavement, crossing the street with an extra _klonk_ to her step. _Clip, klonk_ was the sound of her irritation as she found her way to the small mechanics shop down the street. The garage door was rolled open and a few pickups were parked half inside and out of the structure. Leia could find a few suspects- all sooty, gorgeous men, wearing torn overalls and shirts, lounging over the vehicles- the kind of image that would make a perfect propaganda poster. The pheromone-provoking scene had no effect on Leia as she marched her way over. She hollered as she approached, trying to be heard over the whines and whirs of the shop. "Hey!" Her gaze flicked over the different pickups lined side-by-side, trying to zone in on the very exact one. Finally, she focused on a Ford pickup that was painted a blue deeper than royal. Its defining beauty mark, however, was the distinct image of a steel gray bird on the back end. A falcon. Leia clenched her jaw. She pointed. "Hey! Hey! Whose truck is that?" When she failed to gain their attention, Leia adjusted her path to pass the vehicle and she reached in through the open window to turn the knob back. The music's volume dropped drastically and, immediately, it achieved Leia's goals.

"Hey!" one of the strapping men came to approach her, his feigned smile clearly disapproving. Leia supposed he was just of average height, but once he approached, Leia became aware of the advantage he had over her- at least a good foot he towered over her own head. But none of that caught her attention like the simple moment of recognition she immediately had. She'd only met the man once before, but just the day before. She hadn't looked at him from so closely then and she found herself taking a few seconds to register to really do so now. He had hazel eyes mixed with more brandy than the mossy tint that was also there. They looked to be hardened with- Leia took a wild guess- cynicism, yet with a touch of delicacy- like they could be softer. And, quickly, they did turn soft, as he recognized her too.

He had a naturally hard look to his face and Leia thought it largely had to do with, firstly, the scar on his chin and, secondly, the odd way his mouth quirked at one corner. With a bit of fascination, Leia wondered for a short moment what it looked like when he smiled. But he didn't smile now. His look only melted and he gaped for a second.

"Leia, right?"

"Miss Organa," she corrected, regaining her composure and straightening her shoulders.

"Can I help you?"

"What are you doing here? I thought you were simply driving through town."

"I'm not staying for long," he assured her. But then a grin broke across his face. "Just so you don't get your hopes up."

"Oh, please. Get over yourself, will you? I just came over because I was disrupted by the music. I work at the library and the visitors need to be able to focus."

"Sorry, sweetheart. You have something against Miller?"

"Yes, actually," she muttered with a roll of her eyes. She sighed heavily. "Do you mind keeping it down from now on?"

"Yeah, sure."

"And what are you doing here, anyway?" She couldn't help it and the question slipped from her lips. Han seemed surprised for whatever reason as he regarded her with a measured look. "Car troubles, too?"

He smirked at her. "Hardly. I was looking for a job to hold me over for a little while."

"You're a mechanic?"

Han shrugged. "I may know my way around a car."

"Hmph! Well, if you ever feel like fixing mine-"

"What's that? You need help with your car?"

At once, Leia cringed, realizing her mistake. "I'm afraid the situation is worse than I'd previously realized. The necessary repairs extend out of my capabilities."

Stretching out an arm to indicate the shop, he asked her, "Have you brought her in yet?"

She crinkled her nose. "Oh, not yet. My parents are convinced they'll be paying for the repairs, and they won't let me take the car."

"You plan on scraping up that money yourself?"

"Well, I'm not letting my father dump his hard savings into this. He isn't paid fairly."

Han raised his chin. "You know, I'd be willing to take another look at the old girl for you. But you should know that I don't work for free."

"That's fair," she smiled. "Are you sure about this? I appreciate the gesture, but-"

"Don't worry about it. You won't even have to move the car. I'll swing by."

"Do you have pen and paper?"

Han hurried to a nearby desk and found a scrapped card in the wastebasket. He offered it to Leia. She took it and, with her own pen, scribbled down a sequence of numbers and letters. "My address," she told him. "The car is lying dead in the driveway. My parents will be out late tonight after eight, so you could come by then."

"Will do," he nodded, safely tucking the note away in his pocket.

"Great." Leia took a step forward and passed him. "I'll see you then, Mr. Solo."

He stopped her there, raising a hand in his nonchalant way. "I'm gonna' stop you there," he said. "Please- don't call me Mr. Solo. That just sounds- _ach!_ Just Han is fine."

Leia laughed easily. "How many more times do you plan on running into me, _Han?"_ She stopped. "One last thing. If I hear that radio again, you won't be getting a dollar from me."

* * *

It had taken Han a while to find the address Leia had neatly scrawled on his scrap paper- and not because of the large oil splotch he'd accidentally spilt on it. He had disregarded the plain block of houses in Aldera as being an unlikely neighborhood for such a stately-seeming woman, but he'd eventually caught sight of Leia just outside one of these homes. She'd changed since that morning, now wearing a more casual dress, and had pulled up her hair in a different braid. She stood on the front deck, hands planted on hips, staring toward the other end of the street. When Han drew nearer, she became aware of his truck, turned to look, and waved.

As she'd told him, her car sat in the driveway. Han pulled in and parked just behind the black Chevrolet. "Hello," Leia greeted as she hurried over. "Quite the timing you have. My parents just left."

"Huh! Some luck, then. I was having a bit of trouble finding this place." He cast a surveying look around the block.

"That's what happens when you go wandering into the middle of nowhere," Leia smirked. "You get lost."

Han nodded. "No kidding. Alright, so the car..."

"The car," Leia nodded.

"What's wrong with it now?"

She dropped her head so it hung over her shoulder. "I can't get it to start."

She looked so defeated, the hint of a smile on her lips the only clue of a light mood. Han couldn't help but laugh at her. "It won't start? Just yesterday, your only problems were a punctured tire and no gas."

Leia caught the edge of her lower lip between her teeth. "I think I've been in denial. She's an old car. We're not sure what year she is, but we bought her used."

"No kidding. This thing is almost antique as far as cars go. I haven't seen one of these beasts on the road in a few years."

"I learned to drive with that car."

"Ah. So, it's a sentimental thing."

"Quite."

"I can understand that." Han grabbed his toolbox from the front passenger seat, then marched to the side of Leia's car.

"I suppose you've got your blue beauty right there, don't you?"

"The Falcon and I go way back. I bet she's almost as old as yours."

Leia shrugged. "Perhaps."

Han bent to the gravel driveway and carefully lowered himself beneath the car. He knew Leia was watching him because he'd noticed her doing just that before he'd hidden away, and now, he could _feel_ her gaze, a gaze heavier than boulders. Something about those big, beautiful, dark eyes unnerved him a bit. He felt transparent, open, vulnerable, like she was wise enough to see through to his mucky, damaged soul.

But then there she was and Leia seemed nothing like that in her own entirety. Leia was gentle and humble, with her own razor edge that she could draw out at will. But she was kind and thoughtful, and Han thought she was a mystery unlike any he'd ever seen. Three times. Three times he'd met her and Han was already confused.

"If it helps you any, I do know that the engine rattles," he heard her speak. She always spoke so confidently, but a smidgen of it seemed lost to her lack of knowledge. That was new.  
Han sat back up and narrowed his eyes at her. "The engine rattles?"

Still biting her lip, she nodded. "What does that mean?"

Han looked over his shoulder. "I don't know!" Carefully, he lowered himself again, ducking beneath the vehicle with his toolbox close at hand. "How long has the old girl been having problems?"

Leia sighed. "A while. I can't even remember anymore what the first problem was."

"But you can't get it to start anymore?"

Sealing her lips into a thin line, she shook her head. "Do you think it's fixable?"

He huffed. "I think it's a good thing you aren't bringin' her in. I bet it'd be cheaper to just buy a new car."

Leia cringed.

"And a whole lot easier."

She shook her head, pressing one fist to her forehead. "That's not what I wanted to hear. Do you think you can get her to work again or not?"

"I can try." He wiped two fingers along a pipe and swiped away a load of gunk. "But that's about all I can do."

"Do you have an estimate on how long it might take you to do the repairs?"

"I still have to look around, but this isn't just a one-week job."

"Alright. Then, I'll pay you by the day. So long as you don't cheat me."

"Sounds like a deal." He sat up again, reaching for a towel from his kit. Leia was still watching him with an even look. "Hey. I'll cut your bill in half if you help me."

She raised a curious brow and her chin, perhaps instinctively, rose a centimeter and turned to the side- an imperious angle for such a small woman. "I know how to take care of myself. Unfortunately, not how to fix a car."

"C'mere," he waved her over and stretched out a flashlight to her. "I'll teach you."

* * *

 _ **Basta-**_ enough

 _ **¿Por que?-**_ Why?

 _ **¿Qué pasó?-**_ What happened?

 _ **Estás bien?-**_ Are you okay?

 _ **¡Estoy bien, Mamá! No te preocupes por mí. El coche se averió en el camino. Mirax me llevó a casa.-**_ I'm fine, Mom! Don't worry about me. The car broke down on the road. Mirax drove me home.

 _ **¿Estás herido?-**_ Are you hurt?

 _ **No hubo un accidente. Solomente- el coche.-**_ There wasn't an accident. Just- the car.

 _ **¿El coche? ¿Todavía funciona?-** The car? Is it working?_

 _ **No sé.-**_ I don't know.

 _ **Arroz con salchichas-**_ rice with sausage  
 _ **Ve a llavarte las manos-**_ Go wash your hands


	5. Chapter 5

**A.N.** Remember my really important author's note? I promise it's not in-your-face, but I'm once again opening the door for you now.

* * *

Leia was warm. Or, was that him? Either way, Han felt warm and he knew it was because of her.

Han was intrigued by her, alright. And now there was some new, deep want within himself that he'd never before had to acknowledge- just the simple desire to get to know somebody.

That wasn't who Han Solo was. He was a runner. But there she was, and Han thought for a moment that she really was something. She kept his attention, demanded it, and Han felt called to a salute when she spoke with that natural authority- so effortlessly and unknowingly. When Leia left his side, Han immediately moved to get up- and smacked his head under the car. A profound curse followed and he heard Leia laughing. "Are you alright?" she asked in between hysteric guffaws.

"Gah! That hurt!" He cursed again.

"Hang on, flyboy." He felt her soothing hand press against his forehead and she carefully helped him sit up. "Stay there," she directed him, "and I'll get you some ice for that." Then, she was gone and all Han could think of was the blaring pain in his skull and encompassing his forehead. Quickly enough, he felt Leia's fingertips brush against his hairline and she gasped. "It's already swelling. Here." She pressed a cold pack against the spot and told him, "Hold this." Han replaced her hands with his and gently pressed the pack there.

"I think that's enough repairing for the night."

"You think?"

"Oh, hush. It's not so bad. It just hurts a bit. Certainly nothing to be a big baby about." Han removed the ice pack from his brow to look at Leia. Her tone was low, all but mocking, but her eyes held a glimmer of mischief and Han couldn't help but roll his own at her. She laughed under her breath, taking his hand and helping him stand. "Come on inside for a bit. It's getting cold."

"Getting cold? You think it's just getting cold?"

"You are such a baby!" she laughed again, shaking her head.

Han dropped the hand that was holding the ice pack to gape at Leia, comically offended. "Baby?"

She shrugged her shoulders quickly and shortly, a finely punctuated movement. "Fine. Scoundrel."

He grinned, thoroughly entertained. "Scoundrel? Scoundrel. I think I like the sound of that."

And, at that, Leia Organa's cheeks bloomed with a rose blush.

* * *

She felt it- an uninvited warmth seeping into her pores, lighting her cheeks. She flushed- like a giddy schoolgirl. Right in front of Han Solo.

Leia dropped her chin, searching desperately for an escape. She found none and forced her gaze back up to the rascal of a man who stood before her. _Scoundrel._ When she dared herself to meet his gaze once again, Han was watching her most curiously and she knew that he had seen. Immediately, she bit the inside of her cheek, hurrying to suppress the flames illuminating her pale face.

"I have money for you," she stammered. "In the kitchen." She raised a shaky hand, halting him when he took a step toward her. "Wait here. I'll be right back." Then, she quickly spun around and disappeared inside. She'd left an envelope on the counter, licked and sealed shut. Contained within was a sum of neatly folded bills which Leia had cashed from her last check for Han. She snatched it from the counter and brought it with her outside, where she'd left Han waiting in the cold. She hugged herself with one arm, stretching out one arm to pass him the manilla envelope.

"Leia," he grimaced. "About the money, I didn't _mean-"_

"No," she insisted. "Please take it. It's the least I can do."

"I didn't even fix anything. Leia, I don't even know if I _can_ fix that piece of junk."

"Then, it's for the lessons," she stumbled. "Please don't make this difficult when it doesn't need to be. I don't mean it as an insult, but I know you could use the money too. Just please take it. I need to pay you somehow."

Han held the envelope with a fragile grip, like the manilla paper was burning his palm. Leia saw the struggle in his eyes, the strain, the urge to toss it back at her and scoff. But he accepted it, roughly stuffing it into his back pocket and even smiling at her. He muttered with true thanksgiving, "Thanks."

* * *

Like they were small children, Leia held a hand of both Bail and Breha in her own. And like they were small children, they followed her, silent, obeying, watching and looking up to her, their caretaker.

Leia took her time, trying not to appear too desperate as she waded down the aisle. The right side of pews was nearly full, so she stuck to the left, forcing a pleasant smile as she gestured to an empty space with her chin and waited for the okay. The Hansen family waved her away, Mr. Hansen insisting, "This one's almost full. Not enough room." She squeezed her parents' hands and moved on.

"Lelila," Breha whispered to her, leaning towards her ear. "There was an empty pew in the back-"

"No! There is plenty of room up here. Don't you want to be able to hear Pastor Matthew speak?"

"Honey, we can hear just fine from the back."

"No," Leia shook her head and, simply, stopped listening. She let go of their hands and started forward. "There are plenty of empty seats up front. If Mr. Rogers just scoots over …"

"Oh, for Heaven's sake," Bail was muttering just as a hand shot up and a young scrawny man waved them over. "Leia! Mr. and Mrs. Organa. There's an empty space just wide enough right here. Come sit with us. Please."

Leia rolled her eyes and immediately turned for the back.

"Oh!" Breha snatched her arm back and shoved her forward. "What's the matter?"

Leia jerked her head. "It's _Will."_

"He's a nice boy!"

"He's a boy!"

"He's your age!"

"Well, he had me fooled!"

Breha scorned her with a fierce scowl and nudged her on. "Go sit!"

Leia shuffled past bent knees and over the polished heels and toes of a few people before she arrived at the empty end where Will Johnson and his family were sitting. Will patted the empty space beside him, and Breha and Bail quickly filled in the other end. With a muffled sigh, Leia dropped into the space beside him. She glanced around her, surveying the familiar crowd all in their usual seats. Glancing across the aisle, Leia caught an apologetic smile from Mirax who leaned over the next pew to look at her. Leia shook her head, trying to assuage her friend's guilt, and smiled reassuringly back. Mirax's father caught the exchange, finding Leia on the other side, and glared scornfully at his daughter. Leia melted back into her seat.

"Good morning, Miss Organa." The blond, curly haired young man sitting beside her extended a hand for Leia to shake. Just as Will opened his mouth to speak again, she shook his hand firmly and responded in kind, "Good morning." Twisting around, she offered her hand to the family seated behind her. "Good morning," she repeated over and over, until she was saved by the bell as it rang somewhere overhead in the turret.

The pastor made his appearance on the pulpit, standing still, waiting for the bells to cease. Once they were silent a moment later, he leaned onto his stand with both hands and spoke in a clear baritone, authoritative call, "Good morning."

"Good morning," the congregation responded. Leia settled back into the pew, letting herself relax.

"Today's call to worship is found in Proverbs. Chapter twenty-two verse two says this: 'The rich and poor meet together: the Lord is maker of them all.'"

And just like that, Leia wasn't sure if she wanted to recoil in her seat or sit up straight and proud. But she swore she could hear the thumping of mechanical hearts in unison across the room. _Think about that,_ Leia thought, could have laughed, could have cried. _Think about that for a while. Then, come back and look me in the eye._

But the pastor allowed little time for such reflection and continued on without missing a beat and it took only a few seconds for the congregation to recover. As Pastor Matthew started up again, Leia reached for her father's hand, held it between both of hers, and squeezed reassuringly. From the corner of her eye, she caught the flitting movement of his chin rising and the fragile smile that tugged at his lips.

"Let us open in prayer," the pastor spoke and the only discontent remaining lay within Leia.

 _Our Father which art in heaven, hallowed be Thy Name. Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven._ Leia caught her lip between her teeth and chewed. _Give us this day our daily bread._

"And though Your glory shines through in every season You bless upon this town, we pray for some more warm weather before winter hits us." Leia snapped to attention as a chuckle ran through the crowd. It was then that she turned to look at Breha who was keeled over in deep meditation, rocking in her seat, and whispering the words to a familiar prayer. "And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors."

"But still, we thank you, O Heavenly Father, for the beautiful seasons you bring to our area and we thank you for each beautiful day you gift us with. Amen."  
"Amen," she muttered along with her mother.

* * *

New Hope was the church's name. New Hope Lutheran Church. It drew the crowd of nearly the entire town of Aldera every Sunday morning and kept Corusca Diner running in the early afternoon. Admittedly, the congregation consisted of more sympathizers to her parents' case than those who expressed prejudiced views, but, as always, the negatives seemed to outweigh the positives. Leia often struggled to be thankful for every friendly face that occupied this town when the mean ones were so vulgar. Perhaps it was for this purpose that Leia stayed behind while the congregation filtered out the single front exit, her parents quickly getting picked up in a discussion with Mrs. Johnson on plans for this year's huge Thanksgiving feast. Leia waved them on, promising her mother she wanted a full recap later when they got home. But, for now, she stayed behind, only rising to move to a different pew.

Alva Jorgensen was a wrinkling, ailing woman who was well along in her years. She'd been a key figure in helping Bail and Breha transition to American life when they'd immigrated and come to reside in Aldera. She'd taken the place of someone like a grandmother in Leia's life, and not the kind that spoiled her with candies, but the kind that reprimanded her when she disobeyed, using no more than a look to draw little Leia into a bout of guilt. How could Mrs. Jorgenson affect Leia in this way? Her kindness, her warmth, her interest in Leia's well-being had sowed the seeds of a trusting relationship, where Leia respected the older woman and cared deeply for her. Although Mrs. Jorgenson had been a widow for many years and had no children of her own, she'd so willingly and perfectly fit the grandmotherly role that it was easy to forget she had just started as their neighbor. And this "almost-grandma" had contributed profoundly to Leia's development.

Leia found her still sitting after everyone else had already left. She caught the woman's eye and she smiled. "Good morning, Leia," she greeted. Leia slid into the pew beside her and took her hand. "Good morning."

"How are you?"

"I'm well," she answered simply, leaving it at that. Nothing had happened to her in the last _months_ of note.

"And your parents?"

Leia straightened in her seat, taking in a clear breath. "They are the same as always- content as ever."

"And yet," the older woman added pointedly, "you are not."

Leia shrugged. "I'm just tired. I haven't been getting much sleep."

"Hmph! I can imagine."

"What does that mean?"

Mrs. Jorgensen shook her head. "I was watching you earlier. When the pastor gave the call to worship."

"And?"

The woman's brilliant blue eyes wandered away, moving far into the distance as a memory came to her. So long ago. "I remember when I first met your father and mother," she began with a reminiscent smile. "They knew some English before they came here, but very little and it was all very broken. I told them that they couldn't come to church until they could pray in English." She stopped to laugh shortly. "So Breha was working on the Apostles' Creed. Word by word, lie by line, until she came up to me and happily announced that she could say the Lord's Prayer and Apostles' Creed without forgetting a word in English. I was proud of her too. She was so excited and when it came time in the service, she spoke it so loud and proudly. And it was going well."

"You sound like there's a downside to this story."

Alva laughed again. "She had it word for word. Until we got to one of the last lines. In her proud, accented English, she said, _'I believe in the Holy Spirit.'"_ She turned a grin toward Leia. "And the _holy. Catholic. Church._ Oh, I could've died. Well, you can imagine the scandal of that moment- a room full of Lutherans and a professed Catholic. I felt so awful but I had to correct her. I don't think she ever forgot 'Christian church' ever again."

Leia laughed with her, shaking her head. "No, I don't think so. But what does that have to do with anything?"

"There's always a point, Leia, and the point is that that little story about your mother- that is your parents' lives and that will always be their lives. Now, don't give me that look because I know that you know exactly what I mean."

"My parents' lives are the Catholic Church."

Mrs. Jorgensen sighed out of irritation and Leia smirked.

"The _point_ is that was how your mother learned it. She was taught to say that, so that was what she said. And she was taught that she had no reason to shy away from those words, so she didn't. It's not her fault that she didn't know that was the wrong way to say it here." She shook her head. "Silly, silly humans. God must be laughing at us now. Between just us silly humans, we've got it all wrong. And 'wrong' is a perspective, Leia. Not everyone understands that."

"What am I supposed to do about it?"

"Let go, Leia. They're strong. They're smart. And so are you, so why don't you find your own path?"

* * *

The Corusca Diner needed no advertising to make a business, but the weekly Sunday morning service at New Hope certainly didn't hurt. The early afternoon was always hit with a lunchtime rush before families retired home for the day. Leaving the church so late, Leia found herself at the back of a very long line, so she settled in at one of the tables set just outside. Though she'd be too stubborn to admit it to Bail or Breha, it was getting cold. She knew it wouldn't be long before the year's first snow drifted upon Aldera. The townspeople were loathe to admit it, but they knew it too. Leia, however, had not yet decided whether she welcomed winter's pure powder or if she sided with the rest of the state in condemning the long, laborious hours of shoveling ahead. Perhaps, she would condemn the sloppy, slushy aftermath... later.

For now, a growing chill filled the air. Leia pinched the collar of her jacket closed around her neck, wrapping an arm across her midsection. Maybe she needed a steaming mug of coffee to warm her up.

The gentle sound of footsteps sounded nearby and Leia looked up to see young Biggs Darklighter approaching her side, shivering in only his shirt, pants, and apron, holding a bottle in one hand. "Hey, Leia," he chattered. Biggs was a young seventeen, shy, but lanky and just as tall as the other guys at the diner. The son of Mr. and Mrs. Darklighter, he often helped out at the diner on weekends.

"Biggs, what are you doing out here? It's cold."

"Well, I saw you out here, so I thought that you must be waiting for the crowd to filter out a bit. So, I thought I'd just bring your order to you." He thrust forward the bottle of Coke, and Leia smiled.

"Unless you wanted something to eat, too."

"That's alright," she shook her head and accepted the glass bottle by its neck. "I'll just come back later. Have a good day, Biggs." She handed him her nickel.

"I'm really sorry, Leia," he frowned, running a hand through his typically mussed hair. "We're a little short-handed today. When Wes was closing just the other day, the jukebox was set to play over half an hour of "Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy" and now he's convinced it was Wedge who did it on purpose."

Leia had to catch and bite her lip to keep from laughing, and even then she gave a quiet squeal of amusement. "Your parents aren't going to fire Wes, are they?"

He rolled his eyes and threw his head in something of a shake. "Nah. Mom said that boys will be boys and she's just waiting for him to get over it. I don't think she cares _who_ did it."

Leia nodded back, picking up her purse and standing. "Well, that's a relief. I'll see you later, Biggs. And I promise to call if I hear from Wes."

"We'd appreciate that. Thanks, Leia."

She nodded and quickly turned down the street before he could see that she was on the verge of laughing. She really did feel bad, but Wes made it too easy. As he so often gave reason for, he'd had it coming.

Settling on the idea of a light snack before returning to the Corusca Diner in the afternoon for a later lunch, Leia started the walk for home. Her footsteps became a silent rhythm set to autopilot and she withdrew into her own thoughts, the bitter wind a mere annoyance she hardly noticed. Subconsciously, she drew her jacket tighter around herself, cinching the collar closed again in one hand and wrapping her other arm across her waist. The world around her only came crashing back as she walked up the driveway of her home and something had yanked Leia to the ground with her.

* * *

Leia was quick to fight, but Han tightened his grip on her arm and kept her anchored to the ground beside him. "Han?" she gasped, still trying to break free of his hold. "What are you doing?" She blinked in confusion. "When did you get here?"

He hushed her with a stern finger raised to his lips. Surely, it wasn't hard to hear voices amidst the otherwise peacefulness of the empty block- especially from the house only a few yards away. Han tugged on Leia's arm so she was bent lower behind her car.

"Han!" she shrieked. "For heaven's sake-!"

"Shh! You have to be quiet," he told her, frantically whispering. "They might hear you!"

"Hear us? Who-?"

 _"Shhhh!"_ He might have spit.

"Han."

He couldn't look at her as he simply told her, "Someone's in your home." He caught the slight movement from the corner of his eye and understood that she was gaping, her eyes wide in shock? Fear? Anger? She stuttered, "In-?"

"I saw 'em comin' up the street, yelling, storming about in some-"

This time, Leia pointed, peeking over the cap of the Falcon. "Someone's inside?" A cold, steel look of rage flashed across her classy features. Quickly, Han pulled her back by her shoulder. "Leia!"

"Did you get a look at them?"

Han shrugged. "Not a very good one. I heard them first. They were yelling up a storm and so I hid. I only got a glance before I hid."

"Well, what were they yelling?" Leia was already risking another look, hands pulling at the Falcon's hood.

"Gee, Leia, I dunno'! They were talking to each other in some other language. It wasn't English!"

That stopped Leia, like the air's chill had frozen her to the core. Slowly, she turned around to face him, ducking back behind the passenger's side of the Falcon. Her eyes were narrowed with a poison glint- one which Han was quickly beginning to recognize. Danger. "A different language, you say?"

Han could only nod. "What are you thinking?"

Without warning, Leia slapped him upside the head and carelessly jumped to her feet. "You idiot! You moronic, ignorant, _cow milker!"_

Now, Han really didn't know how to respond, but he didn't think it mattered because he knew Leia was past listening to him. Stuck in her own world, she marched up the driveway and straight to the front door.

"Leia," he growled her name. He stretched his arm stretched out as if to grab her and pull her back, though he did know better than that.

She stopped at the doorstep, turned the handle and called, "Mamá! Papá!" and her harsh voice took on a spicy, fluid accent that Han wouldn't have imagined coming from her.  
Her northern accent suddenly dissolved into a flowing, yet sharp tone with a quick melody.

He began to doubt that any response would come, but then, "¡Mija! ¿Quién está afuera?"

"Un- amigo. Este hombre vino a mirar al coche. Señor Solo."

Han squinted at that. "Senior?"

"It's alright!" Leia turned her head to look over her shoulder, her razor gaze suddenly gentle, searching out Han. Her eyes were begging, pleading with him, beckoning him to come join her, and without another thought Han stood to follow her inside. Her hand was there, and it was hardly noticeable that it was raised from her side, but Han saw it and thought he understood, so he took it. Leia seemed surprised for a second, startled, but then she held his gaze again and a certain strength returned to her eyes. Han felt her small, delicate hand clamp tightly around his.

This was how Han came to first meet the Organas. With a flutter of nerves, Leia led him into her home; and though he couldn't understand what was making Leia so anxious, he wanted to be able to soothe her nerves to comfort her, and to assure her that he was right behind her, but he still didn't understand what he'd walked into.

The front porch door creaked open and Han stepped in after Leia. Just like that, Han found himself standing in the middle of a small kitchen, two strangers on either side of him. Both were a bit taller than Leia, a little heavier, both with eyes darker than chocolate. But, perhaps, their most striking feature wasn't the warmth on both their faces, but the darker tones of their skin. The woman's resembled something like the spice cumin- a lighter shade of 'dark'. The man standing to Han's left side was more cinnamon in tone.

Leia let go of Han's hand and went to stand with the man, taking his hand and gazing up into his eyes. "Papá," she spoke quietly, but the simple word reverberated through Han's bones. "Este es Han Solo. Él nos va a ayudar."

The man- apparently Leia's father- seemed to be studying Han for a moment, his watch careful and measuring, but then he smiled warmly and reached out to shake hands. "Hello, sir. My name is Bail Organa and this is my wife Breha."

Han shook his hand then turned to greet Breha Organa. He expected the usual handshake, but the older woman seemed to have other ideas as she stretched her neck to press her cheek to his right one, then the left. _"Mwah, mwah."_ She too smiled graciously at Han even as he took a long step back to recover. He glanced at Leia. She was watching him.

"You have come to look at our car?" Bail asked, his friendly eyes glimmering with hope. "To fix?"

"Ah, hopefully," Han allowed. "I haven't looked at it much yet, but it's-"

Han caught Leia shaking her head, hiding from her parents' view. She held her eyes wide and open, warning him.

Han fumbled for the briefest second. "It's a real treasure you got there. I'll do what I can for you."

Breha stepped toward him again, closing the distance between them from several feet to hardly two. She swatted at her side as if to keep Leia away. "And how much do you work for?"

Something about the question made Han even further uncomfortable than he already was, but Leia immediately intervened, sweeping back to Han's side. "Mother," Leia said in a rush, gently pulling her back by her sleeve. "Don't worry about that. I'm already taking care of our payment. Mr. Solo will be paid handsomely for his generosity." She glanced at him for another second, pulling Breha away. "Now, I think Mr. Solo has to leave, unfortunately." She stretched out an arm and left her parents' side. She said to Han, "Let me show you out."

Quickly, she guided him back outside, away from the house. In an awkward silence, they walked together as Han started slowly down the sidewalk to where he'd left the Falcon parked on the curb. Leia walked with her arms folded in front of her, her head hanging low. She stopped on the grass at the edge of the road as Han climbed into his seat. He shut the door, but stayed there, unmoving. He had the window open with an arm hanging out, the other resting on the wheel. He really couldn't leave her now. Not with this silence hanging between them. When Leia didn't say anything, Han finally asked, "Those are your parents?"

It was bewildering how Leia could become so defensive in a split second. She snapped her chin up and caught his gaze, glaring at him. "Yes, they are. Why? Is there something wrong with them?"

"Aw, Leia! Look, it just surprised me, alright? I didn't know what to think or even to say to them!"

"Seems like you still don't."

"You're right. I don't."

Leia laughed, bitterly. Her eyes blazed like an inferno and Han dared to still hold her gaze. "Did you want me to warn you?"

"I didn't say anything!"

"And you don't think I know what that means?"

" _'What that means'?_ Leia, I don't have a problem with colored folks, so would you please relax-"

"They surprised you," she interrupted. "Because I don't look like them? Or, because _they_ don't look like _me?"_

"Leia-"

"They adopted me. They have never cared about color or race and they never cared that I was white, so they adopted me when I was a baby because they just wanted a daughter and I had no one who cared about me. See, they weren't thinking about color when they adopted me. Because it didn't matter to them."

"Leia," he spoke her name firmly, but firm as in gentle because Han had learned over the years that soft-spoken assurances could often grab one's attention better than yelling. He caught her gaze, held her eyes which were now blinking rapidly. _Gee, Leia, please don't do that to me._ He told her, "I think that's great."

In a moment, Leia lost all of her usual confidence. Her blinking slowed and she looked away, at the ground, across the street- anywhere but him. Her jaw started to tremble and she quickly dropped her chin.

"Leia." He saw her tighten her arms around herself, squeezing. Before he knew what he was doing, Han hurried to open his door and return to Leia's side. He laid his hands on her shoulders, gently soothing her until she looked at him. Her eyes sparkled with unfallen tears. "You okay?"

"I'm sorry," she laughed. Hurriedly, she reached up a hand to brush away the first droplet that came running down her face.

"Hey! You got nothing to be sorry for." He pushed her hand down and gingerly wiped at her cheek himself. Another tear followed, and Han swiped it across her face with one finger. "Are you alright?"

"I'm just- I'm not used to this kind of-" she swallowed, her eyes flicking between both of his. "I was afraid of telling you because I thought- I didn't think you would still help me if you knew that my parents are …" She trailed off.

"What?" Han smiled at her. "That your parents don't have pale, translucent skin like everyone else around here does?" Leia actually laughed. "Hey. I don't care, Leia. I'm just here to help."

Her shoulders shook with a sob, but she was smiling now. And, before Han knew it, she was in his arms, her face buried in his chest. Han didn't know what to say, what he should say or even what would make her feel better. Han knew better than to place any trust in what came out of his mouth because he _knew_ that he was not a man of words, so he did what felt natural and he wrapped his arms around the tiny princess and held her.

'Thank you,' he thought he might have heard her cry into his shoulder, but this level of comfort was already out of Han's comfort zone and he still didn't trust his voice, so he hugged her tighter. And planted a soft kiss on the top of her head that barely touched her scalp. "Don't worry," he ended up saying, simultaneously grimacing at how stupid it sounded to his own ears. Leia was probably waiting for some moving speech of encouragement and compassion, but Han had never been capable of that. She continued sniffling and Han continued saying to her, "Don't worry. Don't worry."

She seemed to only cling onto him tighter after his words.

"And, ah, don't let me forget later, but, sweetheart, we gotta' work on your insults. Cow milker? I don't even know what that means!"

She smiled into his chest.

Han felt warm once again.

* * *

Spanish-English Dictionary

 _ **¿Quién está afuera?-**_ Who is outside?

 _ **Él nos va a ayudar-**_ He is going to help us.


	6. Chapter 6

**A.N.** I'm so sorry this took so long, but I had some stuff to sort out! (That, and RL as always.) I wanted to do something special with this chapter and timing with real life, but it didn't work out which, I definitely think, is for the better. Anywhoo, here's your update!

* * *

By this late hour, some time into the evening, the diner was just about empty. Most of the chairs were propped up on the tables and the dishes were stacked away in tubs. The one table left to be cleaned was hers. For a moment, Leia wondered if it was getting on Wedge's nerves that she'd come so late and that she was the only one still there.  
She wasn't sure what she was waiting for, still sitting alone at the small table in the corner by the tall window. She'd already finished most of her meal and now sat sucking on the straw of her Coke, mindlessly swirling the same fry in a glossy pool of ketchup. The salted fry was now split in half, its condiment-dipped bottom hanging on by a limb of white potato insides.

Perhaps, if she were to be truthful with herself, this was an odd sort of refuge, and Leia only sought to hide. What, or more accurately, _who_ was she trying to escape? The rest of the town? Perhaps... but she could only convince herself of that possibility for so long. She knew her truth, much as it pained her to admit. She was hiding from one man, one Han Solo, before whom she had allowed herself to break down and fall apart like a poor charity case. Leia could have cringed at the memory, at the way she'd so easily fallen for Han's charms to rely on him for comfort, so quickly and with little to no resistance at all. She needed no comfort let alone a _hug_ from _Han Solo_ who had, without so much as laughing at her, wiped away her tears. "Don't worry," he'd spurred her on. "Don't worry." What comfort was that? What reassurance was in those words that he had her in his arms, hanging onto him, seeking solace in a man she hardly knew?

Did she even know him? Han Solo, a mercenary and runner, a man who seemed to prefer to be alone. She knew all that about him, but was it all? It seemed to be who he thought he was, the part he was always playing. But Leia was sure she could see something past all that, a light shining through the cracks. Maybe that was what she was clinging onto, what was driving her to fancy the attention of Han Solo. But what of his affections, which she also seemed to be drawing? That was unintentional- a course, however unnatural, that she chose to blame on Solo himself.

She'd been vulnerable, susceptible to any gesture of consolation in that moment. That was it. She'd merely been- weak? Desperate? No, no, that couldn't be. She'd just- needed something. Something she knew she wasn't likely to find anywhere else around.

Leia shook off that thought, greatly disturbed by every conclusion her thoughts seemed to reach. All of it was so wrong. What had happened- her unseemly fall from dignity- had been a slip. A mistake, a moment she would never forgive herself for. She should have known better than to lean into Han Solo's arms for comfort.

Should have known better- for what? The only repercussion Leia could see was her own humiliation. Was she so truly desperate for someone to understand that the sights of Han Solo looked even marginally appetizing? Surely, she wasn't that lonely. No, she wasn't. Perhaps, it had simply been the moment- she had needed some source, some strand of comfort and, conveniently, Han had been there.

For only a fraction of a moment did Leia let herself wonder if she wanted him there.

A heavy sigh awoke her from her reverie and Leia turned, with a start, to watch Wedge pull out a chair beside her. "You look like you could use another Coke."

Rolling her eyes, she muttered back, "Don't tempt me."

He settled into his chair and leaned forward to talk to her. "Are you alright? You look really tired."

She shrugged shortly. "I am," she allowed. "But I'm fine, Wedge. Don't worry." She glanced at the clock hanging above the counter, wondering if this was really the guys in the back getting on Wedge's nerve to kick her out. It was getting close to closing time. Still, she had a few minutes left before she would have to return home.

"You don't have to leave yet, Leia," Wedge told her, gently.

"No. I suppose you need to start cleaning up." She tried to cast a comical, scandalized look and swept a hand across her table. "The tables are absolutely filthy!"

Wedge smiled. "Then, clean up after yourself, will you?"

Leia rolled her eyes, brushing a few crumbs into her hand. "I can help clean up." Trying to bite back her smirk, she added, "I heard Wes has been missing."

At once, Wedge rolled his eyes. "Don't get me started on Wes. I swear! It wasn't me! Anyway, don't worry about it. I've got it. Now, get out of here. It's getting late."

With a tight smile, Leia shook her head. "I've still got five minutes. Besides, you just told me I could stay."

"I changed my mind. We're closing early today."

Leia glanced at the clock again. "Five minutes," she repeated. "Five minutes and I'll leave you alone. Five minutes until you can kick me out."

"Five minutes," he muttered, giving up as he turned back around. "Don't you have a curfew?"

"Five minutes."

Wedge could hardly suppress his sigh. "Fine."

She didn't say 'thank you', but smirked in her victory. Wedge disappeared to the back of the restaurant, leaving Leia by herself once again.

She turned her gaze out the window to the empty streets. Curfew. She probably should be heading back for home, but it wasn't so terribly late that her parents would have a fit if she were out much longer.

Five minutes, huh.

Leia rose from her seat to wander to the other corner across the wall. The jukebox stood like a silent soldier, unlively and eerily silent. Leia couldn't remember the last time she'd caught it in a break.

With a lazy finger, she traced over all the different selections; the Andrews Sisters' rallying boogie was no longer in the mix. Among the assortment of Crosby, Dorsey, and other Andrews tunes was an older show tune from Rodgers' _Pal Joey_ of a year ago. She smiled. How long ago had she last heard that song? It wasn't so old, but 1940 seemed so long ago. Leia offered the machine a nickel, then gently pressed the corresponding button to the song.

A little bell hung from above the door and its sudden ring startled Leia. She laughed at the following curse that came from the kitchen, but her smile just as soon vanished as she swung her head to see none other than Han Solo walking in. She gasped. Han stopped in the doorway, the door still open behind him. A gust of the cold winter outside found its way in, but Leia hardly noticed. She felt the warmth of his look as he gazed softly upon her, a pleasant smile on his lips. "Hello, Princess," he greeted without a hint of mocking in his tone.

"Han," she breathed his name, more than a little surprised. "What are you doing in town?"

He let the door swing shut and he stepped forward, briefly clasping her shoulder. She frowned at the awkward touch, unsure of how to respond. Han scowled at himself and quickly drew away. Something in Leia cracked and she felt awful for the briefest moment before Han continued. "Actually," he stepped past her, suddenly unable to meet her gaze. "I came looking for you."

Something about that made Leia so pleasantly surprised and she couldn't help but smile a light, feather of a smile. "Looking for me? Don't tell me you're having car troubles yourself."

"No," he said quietly, humorlessly, and Leia was more than put back by his uncharacteristic solemnity. "No, Leia, I think we need to talk."

"Talk?" At once, Leia's body tensed and she was filled with a heavy dread at Han's words, his hesitance.

"Don't you think we should talk about-" He gave an odd flick of his eyes. "Last night."

"Last night? What is there to talk about last night for?" She stopped. "You mean my _parents?"_

He shrugged. "I just mean- Well, yeah, your parents. But not because I've got a problem with them. It's just that-" He frowned, but this time, the expression seemed to be marred with something like sympathy. Or, was it guilt? Whatever it was, Leia didn't know how to react because she didn't think the expression had any place being there, twisting up Han's strong face with some kind of discomfort.

But, then the expression melted away and Han took a step closer to her. Leia inhaled sharply as his hands came down to squeeze her shoulders, but he held on long enough that Leia could detect something in his touch that was comforting- loving. There she was, at it again, allowing herself to search for comfort in a character such as Han Solo.  
"You were pretty upset," he pointed out.

Leia shrugged. "And?"

"And I'm worried."

"About me."

Han's response was hesitant, following an awkward pause during which Han could look anywhere _but_ at her. "Well, yeah."

As if something weren't settling well in her stomach, Leia felt nervously queasy, anxious. How was she supposed to respond? What on earth was he trying to get at? If he thought she needed comfort-

"I thought, maybe, there was something you wanted to talk about."

"What would make you think that?"

"Leia, would you stop foolin' around-?"

"I'm fine, Han. I don't know what it is you think is bothering me, but-"

"I just thought I'd tell you that I am here, sweetheart. Somethin' tells me you don't have much of anyone else you can just talk to about-"

"About what? You think my father and mother are some sort of struggle for me? A burden?"

"I don't know, Leia." Thrice, he'd said her name now. Her actual name. Not some dumb, teasing nickname. Three times within this conversation alone had Han referred to her actual, given name. Somehow, Leia only needed that much to know that Han was serious. He was bending to meet her at her level. Or, stretching, but that was a matter of opinion. Leia was more than used to the usual banter that carried most of their conversations and she didn't think she'd ever seen him so serious. Always with the pet names, the teasing, the mocking. Always 'princess', 'sweetheart', 'your worship'. It had never been just _'Leia'._ Or, maybe it had, and Leia had just never realized it. Maybe, it had always been just 'Leia', but she hadn't been paying enough attention to see.

"I don't know your life, but I'm getting to know you."

"And you think what? That I need someone to talk to?"

"I don't know. You tell me."

 _He can see right through you,_ a forbidden voice whispered loudly to Leia, its silky voice echoing in her ears. _He can see all the pain and fear that Mamá and Papá don't understand. What are you doing? Say something! Let him in!_

 _Maybe, I do need something._

She lost all the volume to her voice, but tried to pretend anyway that she was just fine. "What does any of it matter to you, Solo?" But her voice cracked on his name. _No, that's not his name._ He stepped closer and it escaped her throat, deep and desperate, "Han." Everything Leia wished she weren't.

"You seemed pretty upset," he repeated. "I _was_ worried. I am."

"Why?"

Han smiled uneasily, worriedly. "Because I think you need someone to worry about you."

She laughed, only one of the giveaways of her agitation. "Let me assure you, Han, that I'm just fine."

"Define 'fine'."

Leia blinked. "I can get along just fine by myself."

"But don't you ever get tired?"

She swallowed. "I'm always tired. Aren't you? I thought that was just life?"

Without a sign of sharing Leia's anxiety, Han casually glanced at the jukebox playing behind her. He smiled. "You like _Pal Joey_?"

"I never got to see it. But I like the songs I've heard."

Han nodded at the jukebox, tossing a thumb to point. "You picked this one?"

"I couldn't bear the silence."

Han nodded so subtly, she almost missed it, but the small notion was hardly deserving of her attention as it was immediately followed by Han reaching for her arms. Startled, Leia took a step back, but Han caught her gaze, smiled reassuringly, and took her hands in his. She hesitated, but dropped her shoulders and surrendered. He moved his hands to her hips and gently pulled until there was hardly any space between them. Leia lost her breath and it was a long moment of her gaze fumbling, flickering across Han's encouraging face before her arm responded appropriately and fell over his shoulder. Slowly, easing her into the touch, Han wrapped an arm across her back, then took her other hand in his. A second time, he gently pulled at her so their bodies pressed together. Han touching her, holding her. Something about it felt so right. He began to lead her in a gentle sway, rocking from foot to foot but something about the motion felt awkward.

Han shook their clasped hands and Leia frowned. He wriggled his fingers, shaking their hands again. Then, Leia understood, could hear the plea straight from his mind. _Loosen up, Princess._

Comfort. The looser she became, the more she let go, the more at ease she was. Cautiously, Leia let her shoulders fall, let the knots in her back undo themselves, let her bones and muscles move naturally, let her heart act on what felt right. Simply, she closed her eyes and stopped thinking. She blew out the worries clouding her mind with a deep breath and surrendered to it all. Leia let Han guide her around their tiny space, between the tables, in front of the jukebox as it softly played "I Could Write a Book".  
 _I feel so comfortable around you,_ she thought about Han as she sensed his smile and his hold on her hand, and on her back, became lighter.

"Are you okay?" Han asked quietly, his voice lower than Leia had ever heard it.

Without looking at him, she responded, "I'm alright."

Han didn't say anything more.

' _If they ask me, I could write a book_

 _About the way you walk and whisper and look'_

"Han. I- need to apologize. I shouldn't have snapped at you last night. I'm not used to that kind of support. Those were my parents and I have to protect them and- it's like this frame of mind I get into. I have to be prepared. I have to be ready to be their defense, otherwise I might get caught by surprise and they'll get hurt and-" She lost her voice, her throat constricting. Han's arm hugged her, but his touch only became more comfortable.

"That's your life, isn't it?" he asked. "You revolve around your parents."

"I love them." She added in weak whisper, "And I can't let anything happen to them."

"And what about you?"

Leia's brow wrinkled. "What about me?"

"Well, what do you do for yourself?"

After a moment of almost awkward silence, Leia began to realize that she didn't have an answer for him. Settling back into his arms, she remained silent.

"Isn't there anything you want for yourself? Something you'd like to do? Somewhere you'd like to go?"

Leia answered with a bitter, disappointed laugh. "I'd love to go everywhere," she told him, "but that just isn't realistic."

"Of course, it isn't. But you can still go places. Just not- everywhere."

"I think it would be too hard to choose."

"I think you need to stop making excuses." Han shook her hand again and Leia sighed, once again loosening her muscles. "Doesn't that feel good?" he asked. "To let loose a little? Now, imagine how it would feel to _really_ let go."

"Tell me."

Han didn't respond with words at first. Leia could feel his warmth as he pulled her closer and ducked his head to stay level with hers. His nose brushed against her temple and he whispered, "That's the beauty of it, sweetheart. The reward might be more than you can imagine."

"I don't know. I can imagine quite a bit."

He chuckled quietly. "More," he insisted. "A galaxy at your feet."

"And what about you?"

Han squeezed her hand briefly, and Leia felt it as he splayed his fingers across her back. Encompassing. "I'll be there too- if you want me there."

 _More._

"I might like that." Something clicked and Leia gasped, tilting her head back to look at Han. "Speaking of having you around, I don't suppose you have plans for this Thanksgiving, do you?"

"Actually, I was going to buy a pack of beer and wallow with Chewie in the Falcon."

"Perfect! You should come back to town on Thanksgiving. All the townspeople come together and we have a huge potluck together. I would like it if you came."

"A potluck?"

"You don't have to bring anything. But it's a nice get-together." She shrugged. "I just thought- you can't spend Thanksgiving alone."

"I can't?"

"Well, there ought to be rules against that, don't you think? You can't spend the holidays by yourself!" Quickly, she dropped her gaze as it dawned on her that it had likely been awhile since Han had spent the holidays with anyone besides Chewie. She could have cursed herself for being so stupid, but then Han chuckled again. "No, you're right. I'll come to your- feast, if you want me to."

At that, Leia fell forward, fell into him, laughing with her face buried in his chest.

"Something funny, Princess?"

"Feast. I'm sorry. It just- it sounded funny, hearing you use a word like 'feast'."

"Feast. Wait. Thanksgiving day?"

"Mm! Day before."

"Day- why the day before?"

"Because you should spend the holiday with your family." Inwardly, she cringed. _Han doesn't know. Han doesn't have family. All he has is a dog and that stupid truck!_ "You have to come."

Han laughed, a delightful grin breaking across his face, and his eyes alight with pure amusement. "Oh, now I _have to?"_

"Precisely. Because I want you to come."

"Oh, I see."

Leia beamed up at him, hopeful. "So, you'll come?"

She searched his face, but there was no sign of hesitance or surrender to be found as Han agreed, "Yeah. Sure thing, sweetheart. I'll come."

A surge of something between relief, gratitude, and thrill swelled in Leia and she couldn't put her thumb on what exactly it meant- only that it made her draw Han closer.

 _And the world discovers as my book ends_

 _How to make two lovers of friends_

* * *

"¿Dónde has estado?"  
 **[Where have you been?]**

The very moment Leia stepped inside her family's home, her mother was on her. There was no getting out of this one.

"Leia Organa. ¿Adónde fuiste?"  
 **[Where did you go?]**

In the middle of the kitchen, Breha Organa stood with both hands planted firmly against her hips; a stern and disapproving look was on her face, hot enough to scare Leia.  
She instilled confidence into her posture as she casually crossed the kitchen and hung up her coat. "Comí al restaurante de Corusca."  
 **[I ate at the Corusca *diner]**

"Estoy haciendo la cena."  
 **[I'm making dinner.]**

"Estuve allí por un tiempo. Comí primero. Entonces, estaba hablando con Wedge."  
 **[I was there for a while. I ate first. Then I was talking to Wedge.]**

"¿Cuánto tiempo te quedaste?"  
 **[How long did you stay?]**

"Un par de horas. Sólo quería un poco de tiempo tranquilo."  
 **[A couple of hours. I just wanted a little quiet time.]**

Breha straightened, one hand sliding off her hip. Genuine surprise overcame the anger that had previously occupied her face. "¿Tranquilo?" She rushed to her daughter's side to take her hand and guided her to the dining table in the kitchen. She gently pushed Leia into a chair and sat down in front of her. "Dime," she implored. _Tell me._ "Dime qué pasó. ¿Estás triste?"  
 **[Tell me. Tell me what happened. Are you sad?]**

Quick to reassure her mother, Leia shook her head and rested a hand on Breha's knee. "Estoy bien," she assured her. "Sólo estoy cansada."  
 **[I'm *okay. I'm just tired.]**

"No pareces cansado. No sé qué te pasa pero sé qué algo pasa."  
 **[You don't seem tired. I don't know what's going on, but I know that something's *up.]**

Leia repeated firmly, "Estoy bien."  
 **[I'm okay.]**

Breha raised her chin, still frowning. "Paraces- más feliz." She allowed herself a small smile.

Leia dropped her shoulders, surprised by her mother's accusation. _Más feliz. Paraces más feliz._ You seem- happier.

"¿Qué significa eso?"  
 **[What does that mean?]**

"No sé. Dime."  
 **[I don't know. You tell me.]**

Leia laughed. "¡No sé! No sé lo que quieres te diga. Estoy- bien. Sólo me siento bien."  
 **[I don't know! I don't know what you want me to tell you. I'm- okay. I just feel good.]**

"¿Con quién más estabas comiendo? ¿Quién más estaba en el restaurante?"  
 **[Who else were you eating with? Who else was at the *diner?]**

"Wedge, Señora Darkli-"

"No. ¿Quién más estaba comiendo? O visitando."  
 **[No. Who else was eating there? Or visiting.]**

"Estaba vacío."  
 **[It was empty.]**

"¿Oh, de verdad?"  
 **[Oh, really?]**

Reaching for the milk pitcher, Leia added in a murmur. "Y Han." She hid behind the door of the refrigerator, waiting through the sudden silence for her mother's reaction. Is this what she was looking for? Some sappy story of burgeoning romance and a slow dance in an empty diner? Suddenly, Leia's stomach filled with butterflies and she thought for a moment that she might collapse.  
 **[And Han.]**

"Y Han," Breha echoed. Leia could _hear_ her smile. "Han Solo, huh?"

Leia swallowed, then quickly changed her mind as she replaced the milk pitcher and reached for the cabinet where her father kept his coffee grounds, deciding on her father's favorite Puerto Rican coffee. Turning to face her mother again, she managed, "Sí."

"Ah, sí. ¿Y hablaste con él?"  
 **[And did you talk to him?]**

"Un poco."  
 **[A little.]**

"¿Sólo un poco?"  
 **[Only a little?]**

 _Five minutes._ "Unos minutos." She really wasn't lying, but it had _felt_ like so much longer. The time had felt longer, but in a good way. And yet, it hadn't been long into their quiet, soft-spoken moment that Wedge had burst through the kitchen doors, ready to scorn Leia until she finally left. He'd almost tripped coming to a sudden stop upon seeing the couple in the empty, dimly-lit space of the diner. What had he stumbled into, just in time to catch the grand show? It all felt like a fog now, in Leia's memory, yet simultaneously crystal clear. What was becoming so clear, the fireworks bursting in her chest, was something she was still trying to understand, but the picture seemed to be growing clearer every minute.

"¿De qué hablasteis?"  
 **[What did you talk about?]**

"Nada."  
 **[Nothing.]**

Leia knew it was far less likely that her answer actually satisfied her mother as much as Breha was now plotting to draw the full story out of her daughter. But, for now, Breha let her go. Her coffee cup in hand, she made her escape from the kitchen and Breha let her go. She sought safety at her father's side, joining him in the living room with an extra cup of coffee for him. She held the cup up for him to see and he looked up from his paper to smile at her. "Ven acá," he said and motioned for her to come sit with him.  
 **[Come here.]**

Just as soon, her mother had followed her in and she came to sit opposite her daughter and husband. "Bail," she said sweetly.

"Sí, mi paloma."  
 **[Yes, my dove.]**

"Debemos devolver el favor. ¿Sí?"  
 **[We should pay back the favor, yes?]**

"Por supuesto."  
 **[Of course.]**

"I was thinking-"

A shock of cold dread shot up Leia's spine with her mother's shift in tactics. She knew what this meant. It was a cruel little tactic- switching to English as if to be sure Leia understood and heard her.

"Why don't we invite Mr. Solo for dinner. Thanksgiving is coming up. What a perfect chance!" She directed her excitement to Leia. "Unless he's returning home to family for the holidays." Breha caught Leia's gaze with her unwithering own and Leia stood up to the challenge. "Is he?"

"Is he what?"

"Well, where is he from? Is he going back to home for the holidays?"

"No, Mamá. I don't know that he really cares about Thanksgiving."

"Well, it's just a dinner. I think that would be nice. Why don't you ask him when you seem him next. Ask him, Lelila. Tell him he is welcome to come to our house for dinner on Thanksgiving."

"What do we need to invite him over for? He's just a mechanic."

"Just a-? It's just a nice thing to do for someone!" She suddenly gasped, bringing a hand to cover her mouth in shock. "Oh, dear! He doesn't have family, does he?"  
Leia hadn't him asked him about any family. Truthfully, Leia had quickly taken Han for the loner type and she doubted that he cared much to spend the holidays with anyone let alone any family he might have back in- where did he say? Detroit. Detroit didn't sound like a family place. It sounded like a dirty place for loners like Han and Leia wondered if he'd ever had anyone in his life save for that blasted dog!

"Well, is he staying in town or not?"

"I think he's staying in town." So, Breha wanted to pull the language card. Two could play at that game. "Mother." Breha didn't scowl, but raised a pointed brow, mildly surprised by Leia's boldness. Leia continued, "But I don't think Han cares too much about holiday celebrations. Besides, don't you think it's a bit inappropriate to invite him over for dinner? You've only met him once."

Without missing a beat, Breha shot back, "And how many times have _you_ met him?"

Leia rolled her eyes. "I don't see what it matters. While I understand your intentions, Mother, I don't think it's necessary to pester him into staying over for a dinner."

"I don't mean to pester! I never said anything about pestering! To pester, you have to ask him at least once and that's all I'm asking, Leia. He's doing us a service and if you're so insistent on paying the bills, the least that I can do is make him dinner."

"For Thanksgiving. Mother, he's white. Do you think he would like your food?" The point was harsh, sharper than Leia had meant, but she was getting desperate and her mother wasn't close to giving up.

What did it matter to her? What did it matter to Leia? What was so wrong with having Mr. Solo over for a simple dinner, repaying the mechanic for, not just his service but, his kindness? She was desperate, loathe to admit it all to herself. It was all so new and foreign and Leia wanted to savor the sweet taste and keep it to herself at least until she could understand it.

Breha didn't seem so hurt by Leia's jab, but instead smiled, perhaps amused by her daughter's efforts. "Es sólo una cena. No te emociones."  
 **[It's just one dinner. Don't get excited.]**

* * *

"You didn't have to say 'yes'," Leia teased. Walking alongside her, Han focused both on the sound of her voice- and dragging his feet through the piling snow along the sidewalk. All at once, he was bewildered, astounded, and annoyed by the growing banks of white powder. It was simultaneously pretty, delicate, _cold._ Han had always been thankful he didn't live so far north, where the snow came like the rain fell in Seattle. Leia had promised him, though, that he was awaiting a show when the first real snow came upon Aldera.

He turned his eyes up to the sky as the glittering flakes fell. "What if I want to come?"

Leia put on a goofy smile and laughed, entertained by some ridiculous thought Han must have been missing. "You know, I won't be hurt if you make up some lame excuse for something that's got your hands tied. I can handle that."

He looked up. "I'm confused. Do you not want me to come? Just yesterday, you were begging me to come to the town's _feast_ thing." He put emphasis on that second to last word, predicting that it would send Leia into another fit of giggles- and he was right. She threw her head back, tossing her curls with the motion. And he knew half the reason he'd done it was just to get the reaction.

Quickly, he composed herself, her gaze sliding away as she explained, "Think of this more as a formality on my mother's behalf. It's the 'appropriate thing' to ask. I won't let them pay you, so they're trying to thank you in their own way. Conveniently, Thanksgiving is coming, and they never get such a chance to really go out of their way with dinner."

"I feel like you don't want me to meet your parents."

"You've already met my parents," she was quick to shoot back. "Do you remember how that went?"

Han grinned. "Both of your parents seemed very nice, friendly, welcoming."

"They are. They're some of the most kind people you'll ever meet. I dare say too kind. Too generous."

He reached for her nearest hand, confidently taking it in his and embracing it. Leia tilted her head in surprise for a brief moment, but a smile played with her lips and she closed some of the distance between them.

"Do they hate me?"

"What?"

"Does your father hate me or-"

"No! He hardly knows you! Why would you ask something like that?"

"I'm just trying to figure out what you have against me meeting your parents again."

"I don't have anything against you meeting my parents."

"Yes you do. Otherwise this wouldn't be such a big deal."

She threw her shoulders, somewhat resembling a shrug, and tried to assure him, "But, it's nothing about you."

"I don't believe you."

"It isn't!"

"Then, talk to me." Gently, but firmly, he tugged in her arm. "Make me understand, Leia, 'cause I don't get it."

"It's not you; it's just-" She sighed, dropping her chin.

Han stopped walking to look at her, but she refused to meet his gaze. "Just what?"

"It's like putting a name to a face."

"What?"

"You know. The implications."

"The implications. What imp-?"

Leia shook her head at herself, a fierce shade of red illuminating her cheeks. "It's my parents. They're hopelessly confused."

"Confused how?"

"Well." Leia was fierce enough to look him in the eye; and with a twinkle of what Han interpreted as amusement in her dark eyes, she elaborated, "They are under the impression that- we're _together."_

Han was unsure of how to respond at first. A few emotions suddenly made an appearance at the forefront of his mind and the center of his heart, but Leia's candid and amused response gave Han something of a taste as to how she felt about the allegation. But she needed to hear his feelings, he thought. Leia was practical and Han had already guessed long ago that she held little to no particular interest in starting a romantic relationship with just anyone. It was something Han was beginning to understand on Leia's level- something he suspected she didn't fully understand herself. And Han had no problem with that. He'd been in the same state of mind- albeit on a different level- for quite some time. But how was he to explain to Leia that his state of mind had slowly started to change since he'd met her? "Oh?"

She squinted. "Oh? What does that mean?"

Instead of answering, however, Han raised their entwined hands and asked back, "What does this mean?"


	7. Chapter 7

**AN:** Many thanks to swimmergirl for fixing all my lazy writing.

* * *

No matter how hard she tried, Leia could not rid the image from her mind. It was burnt there, blazing and defiant, forcing her to face it, never letting her eyes leave that picture. Her hand, enveloped in his, his fingers, threaded through hers. What was that? What _did_ it mean? Did any of it have to mean something if Leia didn't want it to? Perhaps, it could. But even that much was slowly fading out of the scope of reality. Not impossible, just too late.

Leia's life had once been as simple as a narrow tunnel. The light shone so that she could see just enough of her planned path that she could move along without tripping. She could see where she needed to go and nothing else mattered. But, then Han came along, and he was proving to make things- difficult. He was a light she had never asked for, but now he was there and he kept turning her around, showing her how many other pathways around the tunnel there were. It had been so much simpler when her path had been clearly set before her. Now, she could turn right and keep going right, or she could take a left at any time she chose. The only thing was that she couldn't turn back.  
Han seemed to have no difficulty navigating the dozens of pathways and Leia wondered how he did it. He had control, seemed to know where he was headed. He even seemed to know where Leia ought to be. Maybe, if she leaned on him just a little, she'd at least have a better view.

But Han Solo was a whole new land of uncharted territory and, beyond the generally overwhelming force that he was, he cropped up emotions in Leia that she'd rather leave untouched. It was easier that way, less complicated, less- scary. Han didn't scare her, per se, but it was becoming harder to ignore the oddest sensations he could elicit from her and _that_ was horrifying.

What did that mean? What did any of it mean? What was she to make of that little picture, her hand resting in Han's? Leia hadn't an explanation for a single fraction of it. She could only stifle it down and wait for it to go away.

 _But it's still not going away!_

Leia scoured away and scrubbed at her hands with bar soap until they were itchy and scratched raw. They burned flaming red under the water stream and ached in protest and she debated giving up when she stopped to remember what she was so desperate to wash from her hands. His scene refused to vanish- it was still fresh in her mind. And neither would the feeling of his arms around her, holding her in a warm, comforting embrace.

She suddenly jerked, throwing out her elbows as if to knock away Han and tear herself from his hold. Her mama's words echoed in her head. _No te emociones. Don't get excited._ Excited. Was she excited? Excited over Han Solo? Excited over his tantalizing touch and the way he could ignite her entire being with little more than that crooked grin of his? To her growing alarm, it was becoming increasingly difficult to resist his charms and it made her uneasy- the effects that Han had on her.

She bitterly thought of them as side-effects because she couldn't bear to give herself the relief of positively considering whatever these things between her and Han meant. They were like punishments, little nuisances that would crop up whenever Han was around. Leia could handle that. With ease, she could say that Han drove her insane- because he did. He really did pick at her every nerve and drive her wild, but she never left such an encounter with Han feeling annoyed or frustrated. More often than not, any kind of exchange with Han encouraged her, built her up, gave her a sense of purpose throughout her day. Did it have to be anything more than that?

She'd left Han without an answer, so unsure of even herself to actually think about Han's question. She'd panicked, her mind kicking into flight mode. She couldn't remember what excuse she'd given, only remembered flushing in embarrassment and quickly fleeing before Han could say anything more. What would he say? He was waiting on her.  
 _What does it mean? What does any of it mean?_

Han had sought her out before, and she prayed he would consider leaving her alone for just a little longer while she hid at the diner- again. She'd dragged Mirax and Iella into the corner, back to that lone table she'd occupied only the day before. Their usual spot was always the same three seats at the counter and Leia's choice in seating seemed to be enough to alert the two friends. They held no objections, however, and went along with it, letting Leia take the lead.

"How are you?" Iella cautiously asked as they settled in with menus. She caught Mirax's gaze and nodded shortly.

"Fine," she said tersely without peeking up from her menu. Mirax frowned. Grabbing a fork from the table, she poked at Leia's menu and joked, "What could you possibly want from there?... Don't you know what you want?"

Leia shrugged, dropping the menu with a sigh. "I have no idea what I want."

Iella squinted. "Why don't you get the cheeseburger, then?"

"No, not that." Leia simply shook her head and, before either women could prompt her further, Wedge came to their table with a notepad. "So, now all of you are back here?"  
Iella shrugged. "Apparently."

Wedge gave an odd frown, then turned to Leia and spoke quieter. "Hey, Leia. I wanted to apologize for, er, the other night."

Instantly, the women's interest was piqued. Mirax practically threw herself across the table to gape at both Leia and Wedge, gasping along with Iella, "The other night?"

"What happened the other night?" Iella asked gently without so much as mocking Leia.

Still, Leia shrunk back in her seat, avoiding Iella and Mirax's gazes. But she still harbored the strength to catch Wedge's eye and glare nastily at him. The poor guy paled and he looked to be conjuring up an apology or some ridiculous explanation for the other two women before he realized how that could only make the moment worse. He glanced apologetically at Leia before rushing off.

Despite her best effort at changing the subject, she had no hopes of shaking Iella and Mirax off her tail. "The other night, huh?" Mirax cocked a brow and, despite her best efforts, smirked, truly thrilled, at her best friend. "Mind explaining yourself?"

"You don't even know what this is about," Leia shook her head. "So, I don't know why you're getting ideas in your head. What do you think _happened_?"

Mirax shrugged. "All I know is that Wedge saw _something_ happen and I can always hope you're growing up to leave your protective little nest."

Iella shot her a warning glance, then turned to Leia. "All we can do is make our own assumptions, so why don't you explain to us how it isn't a big deal and we can move on from this. No harm done. Right?"

Instead of answering however, Leia just replied, "Nothing happened."

"Okay," Mirax raised a finger. "Now I _know_ you're lying."

"Talk to us, Leia. We're here for you no matter what's happening with you."

"Yes! What scandalous moment did Wedge catch you in _the other night?"_

Without looking away from Leia, Iella jabbed Mirax in the ribs.

"Talk to us. We want to know what's going on in your life."

"I can't tell you."

If nothing else, Iella's face fell into an expression of disheartenment. "Leia-"

"No, I really couldn't tell you," she smiled wryly. "I don't think I know what's happening."

"Hey!" Iella leaned forward more by instinct as if to reach out for her friend and throw her a lifeline. "Alright, for serious now. What is this about?"

"There is- a guy." _I never asked for this! I don't need this! Why can't it just end already?_

Iella seized Mirax's wrist before she could once again explode in Leia's face. "A guy? That you like?"

 _Against all my best efforts? Perhaps._ Instead of voicing that little thought, however, Leia merely shrugged. "I don't know."

Mirax grinned. "I will take that as a 'yes'."

Iella glared at her. "No!"

"Come on. It can't be that complicated. 'I don't know' is just a replacement for when you really mean yes, but you don't want to say it. Everybody knows that."

Iella's eyes held no argument, but she still shot another warning glance Mirax's way. "Well, why don't you tell us about him? Who is the beau?"

Leia raised a brow. "Beau?"

"Unless he's got another name?" Mirax challenged her.

"You wouldn't know him anyway," she returned. "He's from- out of town."

Mirax rolled her eyes, leaning against Iella. She drawled, _"Out of town."_

"Michigan, actually."

"Then, maybe you won't mind giving us a name. A guy!" she gushed. "From Michigan! What a treasure." She was mocking and Leia was more amused than insulted by Mirax's fun. "It sure took you long enough to find someone."

"Find someone? What secret lover are you hiding?"

The dark-haired young woman just laughed. "Come on. What's he like? You two planning on going steady?"

To her credit, Leia was sure she didn't blush this time. "I can safely promise you that absolutely nothing is going on. If the truth be told, it's all rather uneventful."

"Whoa! Hold on! What about 'the other night'? Isn't that where this all started? The other night may as well be more important than his name!" It was Iella this time who was admitting to her own enthusiasm with little hesitation, all favors of respect and politeness be forgotten. She was calling out, "Oh, Wedge!" before Leia could conjure a watered-down explanation. She feigned an apologetic smile to toss Leia's way. "I'm sorry, but if you won't sing, I'll find someone who will."

"This is for your own good, sweetheart," Mirax said, maintaining a deep look of sympathy as she rested her hand over Leia's. "We must know everything about this man."  
Iella hollered again, "Wedge! Come sing to me, little birdie!" Heads turned her way, but she didn't mind in the least.

Wedge returned with a dish cloth slung over his shoulder and a pot of coffee in his hand. "May I help you?"

Iella smiled at him, took his free hand, and squeezed it. Wedge smiled back, and, without objection, leaned across the table to reach her lips.

Even Mirax rolled her eyes, swatting at Wedge to get him off the table. "Oh, please not here!"

"Mirax and I are interested in whatever it was that you caught Leia doing _the other night._ There wouldn't be a chance this had to do with a man, would there?"

"I don't know if Leia wants to talk about tha-"

"What would she _ever_ like to talk about? Wedge, this is an intervention for our dear friend. She's already admitted that there's a special someone. As her best friends, we're simply trying to judge him for ourselves. What kind of a guy is he? Is he good to our Lelila?"

Mirax added, "What color are his eyes …"

"You must tell us about 'the other night'. Tell us what you know about this man."

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Mirax. It's not like I was really watching them. I can't say I got a very good look at the guy."

"All you have to do is tell us what you saw."

"How tall was he?" Mirax leaned over and asked.

"For crying out loud, would you both just stop it!" Leia finally blew and the other two women shrunk back in their seats, wide-eyed and stunned. "I told you that there is nothing going on between us and I cannot stress that enough. He's just a- I don't know what he is, but we're certainly not together. He won't be in town for much longer before he's on his way again and I'm really not interested in pursuing a relationship of any kind right now. I'm not-" she shook her head in pure disgust, "in love with him."  
A silence suddenly settled as Leia took a breath, collecting herself, and Mirax, Iella, and Wedge's gazes slid away. Satisfied with her own persistence, Leis sat up straighter and reached for the Coke in front of her to take a sip.

"Of course," Mirax finally agreed, shrugging her shoulders shortly.

"What?"

"Of course you aren't in love with him," she repeated with a gentle smile. "You're only on the first step."

"Oh! Now, please do enlighten me with this revelation, a mystery unto mine own heart. Since you know so much better than I, please explain it all to me."

Now, there was truly no hint of mocking in Mirax's tone or expression. The smile stuck on her face was kind and gentle if not also slightly amused. She held Leia's gaze and told her, "You aren't in love. Yet. From what it looks like to me, you're stuck on the first step. Falling."

"Falling." Leia could have laughed- and she almost did! "I'm not- that's not where this is going," she shook her head again as if that were sure to convince her friends. "I'm not falling in love with Han Solo."

It dawned on her instantly, just as the three others shared the same astonished, gape-jawed look, that she'd so easily revealed his name to them. This time, she was sure her cheeks illuminated with a brilliant red blush and she hurried out of her seat before they could say a word.

"Wait, Leia!" Iella called out, but she already had her foot out the door.

* * *

Something- no, everything about Mirax's word of choice felt scarily accurate to Leia. Somewhere along her straight, narrow path, she'd caught her heel on a cliff and now she was free-falling to her own doom. Falling, against her will, out of control. Everything about it was wild and uncontrolled and somehow she knew it was too late to catch herself, but she had to wonder how she'd not noticed that she'd been standing so close to the edge.

 _I don't want this. I never asked for this. Why do I have to get caught up in something like this?_

Naturally, she wondered if Han was finding himself in the same place, but then she cursed herself for considering such an impure thought and fought endlessly to cease the question from her mind. _Does he- like me? Could he ever- Oh, for the love of all things good and right in this world, I hope he doesn't see me like that. That's it! Maybe, I'm making this all up. I'm the one that's complicating matters. I've imagined it all and it's not that big of a deal. I told Mirax and Iella, nothing is happening. Well,_ nothing is happening. _I've deluded myself into thinking something might be. Dear Lord, how sick do I have to be? I don't want this. I never asked for this. I don't have time for this. Am I falling for him? No… Oh, I don't know. I wasn't going to take that path! I was just fine before-_

"Lelila, por favor enjuaga los tomates!  
 **[Please rinse the tomatoes.]**

She came crashing back to the here and now as if mercifully pulled from the endless pit for a much-needed respite. She found two tomatoes sitting on a cutting board before her, a long kitchen knife sitting at its side. She took one of the juicy fruits in hand and turned to the sink. "Sí, Mamá."

"¡ _Antes_ de cortarlos!"  
 **[Before you cut them!]**

"¡Yo sé!" Leia glanced her mother's way to see her at work with an onion and a handful of peppers, one of their smaller knives in her hand. Breha sighed to herself, asking Leia, "Puedes traerme uno de los cuchillos mas grandes?"  
 **[Can you get me one of the biggest knives?]**

"One moment." She turned on the facet and took one of the tomatoes in hand, running it under the water and rinsing it off. Without warning, however, the smooth-skinned tomato slipped out of her hands and fell into the other side of the sink which Breha had filled with hot water for the dishes. "Shoot!"

"Everything alright?"

"Fine." Leia thrust her hand into the murky, soapy water and felt around impatiently for the tomato. She laid her palm flat against the bottom of the sink, then dragged it along until she found something thick first. She took it for the handle to one of the larger knives and grabbed hold to take it out for Breha. But that too slipped from her grasp and she quickly brought out her other hand to catch the other end before it fell.

* * *

She was hardly aware of her own scream. The first sound that actually reached Leia's ears was her mother's gasp as she spun around to see her standing there with her palm turned up, blood spilling down her wrist.

 _"Bail!"_ Breha shouted as she rushed forward, dropping her onion to take Leia's hand and examine it. "¡Bail! ¡Llama una ambulancia!"  
 **[Call an ambulance.]**

Leia's mind blurred and all she could do was stare at the angry red gash in her hand. The sight made her sick.

"¡Mírame, Leia!" Breha said firmly, squeezing her wrist. "Look at me!"

She was minutely aware of her father's presence as he rushed to her side and took her bloodied hand. "¡Lelila! ¡Lelila!" He held the side of her face, trying to draw her focus from the open wound, but she could read all the panic flashing in her father's eyes, and then he turned away to reach the telephone …

* * *

The new, unfamiliar lattice work etched across the length of her palm was something of an intrigue to Leia. She found herself tracing the neatly sewn line from just below her thumb nearly to the joint below her pinky finger. Mirax herself had sewn the stitches across her hand, every now and then looking up from her work to smirk at Leia as though she knew some secret.

"A knife accident," she'd read from Leia's report with a growing smirk.

"I caught the blade with my hand," she admitted with some embarrassment.

"Getting a bit distracted, huh?"

Then, Leia had just scowled at her. But that had been the limit to Mirax's teasing, certainly surprising Leia. Mirax and Iella both were training to become nurses and the women had begun working at the hospital in Pelican Rapids only a few months before. Even now, Leia wondered if Mirax's reserve had more to do with a sophisticated approach to her work or if she could be stepping back out of respect. She knew that her friend never meant harm and always held the purest of intentions. Thus, over the years, Leia and Iella had begun to explain Mirax's wild enthusiasm in the simple phrase, 'all in good fun'. She was loud and exciting and nothing if not direct. She handled everything that happened around her like a checklist: approached it directly and to the point. Mirax had only teased her the one time while checking over Leia. The only other accusation had been the constant amused glint in her eye.

Her gentleness and restraint, however, seemed to be the nastiest trick in the book and she'd had to fight the urge to indulge in Mirax every strange flutter Han had sent through her. Wasn't this what friends were for? To share in their confidence everything she couldn't tell anyone else?

 _But nothing is happening,_ Leia reminded herself firmly, quenching her hand into a fist. Immediately, she gave a whispered gasp at the pain that rippled along her stitches. It was entirely inappropriate to even consider _being_ anything with Han. _He's doing my family a service. We meet often to discuss his progress. Don't mistake that for anything more than what it is. It's business; I'm just one of his transactions in his everyday work._

As Mirax left Leia's room, Breha smiled her thanks, crossed her arms over her waist, then slowly turned back to her daughter. Leia sat upright in a bed, her legs stretched out before her, her hands laying in her lap. Breha nodded at her with her chin. "How does your hand feel?"

Leia looked at her wrapped hand and told her mother blatantly, "It hurts."

Pacing slowly, Breha came to her daughter's side and settled on sitting on the bed's edge. "Are you alright?"

Leia shrugged. "It doesn't hurt that badly, Mom."

"No," she shook her head. "I mean- You've seemed distracted all day." She quickly rolled her eyes, a hint of amusement flashing across her face. "Weeks, if I'm honest."

"Why, thank you for your concern, but I assure you I feel just fine."

"Oh, hush now. Would you prefer I baby you? Rest!" She picked at a strand of Leia's hair that had fallen out of its place in a thicker curl. "Get some sleep now-!"

Leia shook her head, swatting away her mother with her good hand. "Alright, alright! I'm fine."

Breha smirked. "Then, why don't you give me an explanation? It's like you've had your head in the clouds for weeks now, just daydreaming. Earth to Leia! Anyone home?"  
"What would you like me to tell you?"

"I want to know that you're happy."

"I am happy!"

"Sometimes, I think you don't understand the difference between- content and happy."

Leia offered her mother a sardonic grin, tilting her chin at a mocking angle. "Content is a synonym for happy."

Breha frowned at her like she was still a child. "But happy is not a synonym for content."

Leia opened her mouth as though to object, but stopped halfway through the effort and frowned, considering.

"Lelila, dear, let me tell you. I still remember what it was like to be young and in love."

Leia looked up sharply. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Oh, come now!" The mother bounced on the creaking bed, slapping a hand on the mattress. "Don't kid yourself. I _know_ that look in your eyes. I recognized it the moment I first saw you wearing it. Don't take me for a fool! I'd be an idiot to not guess by now! You! And Han!"

"Ohh, no, no, no, no, no!"

"Yes! It's so- obvious!"

"Mamá, when do I even talk about him?"

"You don't! But I know what you're up to when you aren't home."

"Mother, what do you think I'm doing?"

"Clearly not enough! Lelila, I know that look that you have. I know what it means. I know what it feels like."

"Mamá, I don't want to talk about this now."

"Oh, but you haven't told me anything about him!"

"Why would I? Nothing is happening between us!"

"You can lie all you want, dear. I _know_ what you feel. I am here, to talk to."

"Now, you're just pulling things out of thin air-"

"Do you like Mr. Solo?" The question was a multitude of difficulties, a factually simple arrow with an emotionally charged target. Breha knew what she was aiming for, and her target was set clearly in her sight.

"Mamá," Leia tried to laugh, but her chest heaved under the pressure. "I promise you that we are not together."

"That isn't what I asked."

"Mamá-"

"Do you like him?"

Leia could not find the voice nor the words to answer her mother's straightforward and pointed question. Was it supposed to be as simple as the mother was seemingly making it? Or, was Leia just overcomplicating it all? "I … "

"It really is a simple question, Leia. Don't think about anything else. Don't let your doubts and fears distract you. Don't think so much; it isn't necessary. Just tell me. What do you think? ¿Qué te dice tu corazón? Huh, Lelila? Do you like him?"  
 **[What does your heart tell you?]**

Leia moved to shake her head, but didn't complete the action and, instead, her shoulders rose and fell with a large sigh. "Mother, I really feel uncomfortable talking about Mr. Solo like this. We're paying him for his services; it's hardly appropriate to fancy me- pursuing a relationship with him!"

Breha stepped back, stunned, and Leia could have smiled at that small victory. "Okay," she managed, her gaze slipping away. "Ha! Please accept my apology, dear. You- you're right. It was very inappropriate of me to suggest anything like that between you and Mr. Solo. I'm very sorry."

Leia nodded once. "It's okay, Mamá."

Breha dropped her head, allowing an awkward silence to ensue for half a moment. "Speaking of paying Mr. Solo," she spoke up, "did you invite him to our home for Thanksgiving?"

Leia flushed. "Just as you asked."

Breha allowed herself a satisfied smile. "And?"

Leia swallowed. "And … he agreed to come."

* * *

It shocked Han every time he saw her how _petite_ she actually was. She couldn't be much taller than the five-foot mark and all of her was _so small_ , but Han found it rather easy to forget when face-to-face with his spirited friend. _Friend? Yes..._ but he wanted more, especially when her eyes would spark with fire- _with passion-_ , transforming her into a confident, happy young woman with all the hope of the world stored in those dark, deep irises. Her smile was infectious, and her laugh… Leia became a new person when she laughed, filling the empty air with music like the ringing of little bells. When she was happy, when her mind was at ease, and her heart settling into its own comfort, her mere aura could chase away a blizzard. With warmth. But she protected herself with a blanket of cold.

Her dynamic personality had two sides, and it wasn't often enough that Leia allowed herself to grace Han with the presence of that vivacious princess. Frequently, she would direct her sharp tongue at him, starting a bickering match out of nothing and storming off, always leaving Han so lost. He sought the secret to unlocking the former. He longed to reach her, to draw her out of her protective shell, to spark her passion rather than her ire. But how? Just past her ice blanket, she had built walls and borders and gates to keep intruders out and Han wondered what she was so afraid of. _Come on, Princess. I_ know _you're not the type who's afraid of getting their hands dirty. So what's holding you back?_

Han looked at just the right moment to see her stepping off the bus. She waved her thanks to the driverand began following the sidewalk, rushing along in a long, gray coat that buttoned snugly across her chest with fat, black beads and a small hat that covered her curls. She hugged a stack of books to her chest in addition to the bag slung over one shoulder.

Han caught himself watching from across the street, gazing out a window of the shop. After enough complaining, someone had finally closed the garage door just as white flakes began to fall, blanketing the town in a sheet of glittering snow. He shook his head at himself, but he couldn't tear his gaze away until she'd disappeared inside the library.

* * *

"Need some help reaching?"

Still standing on her toes, Leia dropped the book she'd been trying to put away as well as the stack she'd been balancing in the crook of her arm. She spun to see Han standing behind her, resting an arm on an empty section of the shelves. Dropping to her knees, she sighed, irritated. "May I help you, Mr. Solo?" She looked at him long enough to shoot him a glare.

"Mister?" Han frowned. "Hey, what's all this about?"

She began to stack the books back in her arms. "May I help you?"

Han retrieved a few books more and handed them to Leia. "Hey, sweetheart, I'm only trying to help." He took the one that she'd been struggling with and set it haphazardly on the top shelf.

She shook her head, turning back to the shelf and fixing his work. "Would you please stop calling me that?"

"Sure, Leia." He handed her another book and Leia flashed him another look. She asked him, "What are you doing here?"

"I'm on break. Half an hour and I've got nothing to do. So, I thought I'd visit you."

"How sweet," she mocked, her smile less than pleasant.

"That's what I was going for."

"Now isn't the greatest time for you to hang around just to bother me. If you couldn't tell, I'm a little preoccupied."

"Aw, come on, Leia! Why you gotta' do this to me? Every time, huh?"

"What am I doing?"

"Pushing me away. Pretending like you hate me."

"Mr. Solo, I don't hate you; I just can't stand your attitude."

Han cast her a charming grin, leering over her. "Can't stand to look at me with all my good looks, I'll bet."

Leia rolled her eyes. Taking her stack with her, she passed a few aisles and Han followed her to a single, shorter shelf tucked in a darker corner of the library.  
"I just wanted to see you. What's all the fuss about?"

"I'm certainly not fussing over you."

"Is that what you tell everyone else?" He cornered her in the hidden section and put a hand on either wall, locking her in. "I don't mind, Princess. But I'd like to know I'm still getting my time."

Smoothly, Leia ducked under his arm and made her getaway. "Mr. Solo, all of this is quite inappropriate; I'm at work."

"Well, would you like to meet after work at the diner? What do you suggest I get? The fries looked pretty great-"

"What do you want?"

"I want an answer. Why are you acting like this? Have you completely forgotten about the other night-"

Leia groaned.

"Or that dance?"

"I'm sorry. I hadn't been aware it was a formal."

"Funny, when you make everything formal."

Leia actually stopped, narrowing her eyes until Han nearly considered running. But he managed to keep his feet planted firmly where he stood and maintained her threatening gaze. "And what does that mean?"

"Why won't you let me in?"

"Let you in? What has delusioned you to think that I should have to-"

"It's not like that, Leia, and you know it. This is about what you won't let yourself feel."

"And you know for a fact that I feel something for you?"

"I dare you to tell me otherwise."

"Mr. Solo-"

"Han."

"I promise you that I do not wish to enter any sort of relationship with you."

"That's not what I asked."

"I'm so sorry to disappoint. How would you like me to respond?"

"With the truth." Han quickly reached and snagged her hand to hold it. Leia grimaced and Han thought he saw a flicker of physical pain flash across her eyes. He shot forward. "Hey! Are you alright?"

Leia shook him off, withdrawing her left hand. "I'm fine."

"What was that?" He reached for her hand again, brushing his thumb across the delicate skin of her palm- and something not so soft. He turned her hand over. "Leia."  
"It's nothing. The doctor said it will heal just fine."

"Leia, what happened to your hand?"

She swallowed, following Han's gaze where it remained focused on the dark stitches crossing her palm. "It was just a small accident I had. I wasn't thinking about what I was doing."

"Doesn't sound like a very smart thing to do."

"Well- I was distracted."

"Yeah, that doesn't sound like you either."

"How well do you know me? Since when do you have me figured out?"

Han gently pulled on her hand, pulling her closer to him. "I think I know you a lot better than you'd like to admit."

"Now, what's this about?"

"Leia Organa, I know some of your secrets. I know why you're like this. I know why you do this to me."

"Mr. Solo-"

"Han."

"This is hardly appropriate. I really should be working."

"Relax, sweetheart. Nobody can see us back here. Now, where were we?"

"My secrets? I don't have any."

"What's the difference between a secret and a white lie?"

Leia blinked, unsure of what Han expected from her.

"What do you think?"

"What?"

"I asked you a question. What's the difference between a secret and a white lie?"

Uncomfortable in the oddest way, Leia looked away. Her cheek twitched, but she responded, "I think it's a matter of time. Do you really think you have me figured out?"  
"Or will you just have to keep lying to hold me off?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Not that I've ever been able to enjoy a nice Thanksgiving dinner, but that _feast_ and dinner with your parents that you invited me to are gonna' be really awkward if you wanna' keep playing this game."

"Han-"

" _Now_ we're getting somewhere."

"Han," she smiled, but with no amusement. "Han, I can't do this."

"Can't? Or won't? Don't have the time to. Can't let yourself go. You're too scared."

"Scared?"

Han cracked an amused grin. "Well, you're trembling right now."

Leia actually smiled, almost laughed.

"I think you got a lot of things on your mind, a whole load of stuff you're dealing with and it scares you enough to think about getting into something with me."  
"Getting into something? Care to elaborate on that?"

Han knew better than that. He knew _her_ better than that. There was no trace of confusion left in her expression and that was all he needed. She knew exactly what he was talking about. He'd figured her out a long time ago. _Sweetheart, how was this so easy?_ "But you're smarter than that. You can fill in the blanks. Leia, you know _exactly_ what I'm talking about. This wasn't my problem to start with, but I'd be more than willing to help you."

"Help me … ?"

"I know what's happening. I know things about you no one else understands."

"Han, we met each other no more than two months ago." She took a step back and her heel hit a shelf. She jumped again.

"Yet I can read you like an open book. Can anyone else?" He threw out an arm animatedly and Leia leaned away. "Can anyone else even see this?"

Leia opened her mouth to respond, but, this time, the words seemed to get stuck in her throat, not quite making their way out. However, her features relaxed and the stubborn fire faded from her eyes, replaced with a soft vulnerability. Han didn't want to make her feel vulnerable, but he loved it when she was simply open. No veneers, no walls, just honest.

Han ducked his head, brought his face closer to hers so he could whisper. "Leia, you know what I love about you? You love everything and everyone so much, the way you love your parents. You love so deeply and you throw yourself into every relationship you hold with the people around you. They're your every thought, your every concern. When you love, you love beyond yourself. You forget about yourself." He smiled at her, his mouth turning lopsided with the gesture. "Yeah, sweetheart. I get it.."

Leia's head dropped. Han brushed his fingers along her chin, not lifting it for her, but encouraging. He wouldn't push her too far, but she needed a little pull. Han thought she'd been waiting for someone who was brave enough to pull her out of her self-confined restraints. And he so desperately wanted to see what she was hiding.

"Your parents? You love them so much. They're everything to you. You're always thinking about them, always watching out for them. Can't hardly think about anything else. Everything you do each day- it's all for them, isn't it? You're so scared for them. Everything you do is to keep them safe. You earn money for them. You pay bills for them."  
He paused for effect, nearly laughing as he added, "For car repairs." Leia pressed her chin to her chest, rolling her lips between her teeth. Han could hear the laugh she was biting back. "That's why you keep pushing me away. You don't have time for that. You don't have time to find anything for yourself. You don't have time to let loose and find love for yourself."

"Han," she whimpered. She raised her chin to look at him and his lips were right there. Her breath escaped her and Leia swallowed, wavering on her feet. But he held her up and a flutter that rushed through her made her aware of Han's other hand cupping her elbow. There was nowhere else to look but at him and her body seemed to understand as her chin rose with little hesitation, so quickly and suddenly, and her lips opened just enough to invite him in. Then, there was no room for even a sliver of light between them and Han had his arms wrapped around her fiercely, protecting her like a wall as all of hers came crashing down.

There was no rush to the new and fervent dance that Leia found herself swept into, but there was an urgency, an unmet need Leia hadn't known was there. A need that she had suppressed for so long that self-denial and loneliness had become habits. And in one sensational moment, her walls collapsed and her passion was unleashed.

But Leia got the feeling that this was only a glimpse, a small taste of the adventure she craved. Something new, something challenging, something bright, something beyond her own self-imposed constraints. This was a peek at the life that awaited her just outside Aldera. One step in and she could see it, taste it- Han was that life. Or, he was a part of it- he could be! He stood at the gate, showing her apath to her dreams. If she just took his hand and let go of the commitments holding her back …

She stood so firmly- until she broke the vibrant connection. Then, her trembling resumed, but Han held her up, his hands gripping her shoulders, thumbs stroking her cheeks.  
Han held his mouth to her ear and whispered, "You did that."

Leia reached for him again, her hands latching onto his forearms for support. She held on for dear life, trying to find her footing on such foreign terrain.

"Hey," he pulled her up. "Hey, Princess. You alright?"

Still trembling, still regaining her breath, she managed to respond. "You thought this was going to make Thanksgiving less awkward?"

He chuckled. "This wasn't in the plans."

"But it was alright?"

"Sweetheart, do you have any idea how beautiful you are?"

"That better not be all you're here for."

"No. No, there's so much more to you. All of this, sweetheart, I've been waiting for it. You better not run on me again."

"I might be able to get used to this."

"You better. Or I'll be sorely disappointed."

Leia bounced on her toes and caught his lips again and Han surprised her by hanging on, holding her up, making it last almost as long as the first. "What do you think, sweetheart?" he murmured against her lips when they finally separated.

"Actually, I'm finding that a bit difficult right now."

"My pleasure."

Leia stepped back, clearing her throat as she gathered herself. She ran a hand down her form-fitting blue skirt. "I really don't want to leave now, but …"

Han watched her, biting back a sigh. Combing a hand back through his hair, he responded, "Yeah. I better head back …"

"But Thanksgiving?"

"I promise I'm coming, Leia."

She smiled again. "I'm holding you to it."

Han dropped his arms, but made no other effort to move. Had so much time passed by now? He was already pushing his luck and the other guys at the shop would be waiting … "First. What happened to your hand?"

Leia snorted, holding up her palm to look at it for herself. "It was silly. My hands were full of soap when I grabbed a knife and dropped it. I shot out my other hand to catch it and … I caught the blade end."

"Ouch."

"It's alright, though. It feels alright." She clamped her hand shut. "I want to talk about this later."

Han had finally reached his limit and he was out of words, so he nodded.

"Before Thanksgiving?" She bit down on her lip. "Tonight?"

He grimaced. "It's a late night for me. But wait for me tomorrow morning and I'll drive you to work."

She dipped her head in resemblance of a nod and Han took it as a 'yes'. Before he could think anymore about it, he turned on his heel and quickly made his way out. He wanted to stay. He wanted to stay there in that hidden little corner with Leia Organa and kiss her senseless if that's what she wanted too. He didn't know quite what to make of their encounter. Certainly, none of that had been in his plans when he'd set course for the library during his break, settled and determined. In fact, he'd been preparing for defeat. He wasn't sure, even as he left, if he was remembering the last few minutes correctly, but one thing was becoming very clear to Han. He wanted to stay, to stay in Aldera. And nothing had ever made him want to stay anywhere.

* * *

Now about that empty little box on the bottom of your screen ...


	8. Chapter 8

By the robust aroma of steaming coffee and milk, Leia could tell she wasn't the first to arise. It wasn't such a rarity that her parents would begin their day before she did, but it was rather atypical, especially at this early hour. She had awakened long before dawn to make time for breakfast with Han before they left for Richville. Now, she felt like a child, afraid to go downstairs and get caught; she could imagine the scene, being forced to admit defeat to her delighted mother. _No surrender. Not yet, at least._ For now, it was still a secret, a special something just for the two of them to hold dear. She wanted to keep it that way for a while. After bathing and curling her hair, Leia found a dress to wear: rosy and flowing, with a collar like a shirt. She cinched a matching belt around her tiny waist and grabbed her bag before skipping down the steps to the kitchen. Sitting at the table with a mug of his favorite coffee was Leia's father. The scene was so familiar that she almost sighed in relief. Bail Organa sat in his usual chair with one hand wrapped around his cup while he browsed the front pages of Aldera's local-run paper.

"Buenos días, Papá," she greeted, coming up from behind to hug him and rest her chin on his shoulder.

"Buenos días. ¿Dormiste bien?"  
 **[Did you sleep well?]**

" _Muy_ bien. ¿Y tú?"  
 **[Very well. And you?]**

"Estoy bien, mija." He lifted his mug to her. "¿Quieres una taza?"  
 **[I am well. Do you want a cup?]**

"No." Leia kissed his clean-shaven cheek. "Está bien. Voy a trabajar ahora."  
 **[That's okay. I'm going to work right now.]**

Bail twisted in his seat to look at her. "Es temprano."  
 **[It's early.]**

Hoping her bright tone would discourage further inquiry, she replied, "Si! Estaba planeando ir a la bodega."  
 **[I was planning on going to the grocery store.]**

"Para … ?"  
 **[For ...?]**

"Para tu pollo, pero _'es temprano'."_ She rolled her eyes, casually striding across the floor to retrieve her hat and jacket.  
 **[For your chicken, but 'it's early'.]**

"¡Lo siento! Pero ven directo a casa después de trabajar."  
 **[I'm sorry. But come straight home after work.]**

"Sí, Papá." Looking him in the eye, she grinned mischievously. Before he could make a move, she snatched his mug, stole a sip, set it down, and hurried for the door. "¡Ah!" Bail scowled after her, amused. Laughing as she she stepped out the door, Leia called back to him, "¡Te amo también!"  
 **[I love you too.]**

She let the door fall shut behind her and hurried down the sidewalk before her father could realize that the grocery store wasn't open yet.

The Falcon was parked alongside the curb across the street. Leia smiled at Chewie, whose head was hanging out the window of the passenger seat. She ran across the street, hugging herself in light of the cold, and stopped in front of the huge dog. "Hey! Get back in here, Fuzzball," Han scolded as Leia petted him affectionately. She scratched behind his ear, combing her small fingers through his long, soft fur, and Chewie's tongue fell from his mouth in approval. "Hi, there! Hey, Chewie! How are you?"

"Alright, alright." Han pulled him out of the passenger seat, leaving enough space for Leia to squish in. "Get out of here, will ya'?"

"I don't have a problem with him," Leia quickly assured Han, reaching back for Chewie to pet him along his giant head. "He's so sweet!"

Han just smiled at her before he turned the key in the ignition and pulled away from the curb. "Why don't you have a dog of your own? You seem like you'd really love having a best friend like that."

Leia's playfulness vanished, and her expression grew pensive, but she wasn't solemn. A small smile remained as she ran a hand through Chewie's mane. "Same reason for everything else," she responded bluntly. "Money. Time." She lowered her eyes, ashamed. "Though, I suppose I shouldn't be complaining."

Han looked at her. "You have as much a right to say that as I do."

Leia actually laughed. "Don't give that credit to me. Han, I don't know your past and I'm not asking you to confide in me, but I do know that I'm really lucky. Nothing in my life gives me the right to complain."

"You know what I think? There is no scale of who on Earth has the worst life. You could either say that everyone has a wonderful life, or life sucks for everyone. It just- sucks more in different ways for different people. You..." He took a breath to continue, hesitated, then shut his mouth again.

"No, go on. Isn't this what you were talking about yesterday? You do get me, don't you?" Leia cracked a toothy grin. "You got me all figured out, flyboy."

"You spend all your time on your parents," Han thought aloud. "You don't allow yourself anything."

Leia didn't turn away ashamed, or avert her gaze. She tilted her head against the seat, nodding. "You're right." She saw the hesitance in his eyes, the fear. Was this something appropriate to discuss? It was something Leia had suppressed, forced herself to accept, and never admitted to the longing she'd called suffering. It was selfish, wasn't it? It was so disgustingly selfish, yet Han treated her like she was poor and starving.

"Isn't it worse?" he asked, as if having read her mind. "Living the life handed to you rather than daring to find your own thing?"

"I have to take care of my parents," she said simply. She didn't believe that or _force_ herself to say that. It was the decision that she had made, her chosen reality

"And you should keep doing that," Han agreed. "But I'm making it my job to give you everything else." He grinned, and a different smile flickered across Leia's face.

Her heart rate quickened. "I don't need anything else."

"No?"

"This newness… This- _us,_ is more than enough to discover."

He laughed almost silently, a sound that bore less amusement than delight. He took his eyes off the road just long enough to find Leia's hand with his own, and he wondered if the small embrace was as intimate to her as it was him. "You like this?"

"I don't really know what this is," Leia laughed. "But I think I might love it!"

"I think I might love it, too."

* * *

Han took his break half an hour late to match Leia's schedule. She met him inside the shop, carrying her own lunch in a paper bag. Glancing around his work space, she winced at the mess of tool parts and small screws strewn across the floor. Han found a tarp and spread it across the dirty area. He reached for her lunch bag to set it on the tarp, then gestured to his setup with a clumsy flourish. Leia giggled, but took her seat on one side of the square. She asked him, "You don't eat on the ground, do you?"

"No. There's a little desk in the back room, but it isn't very big."

"Well, I like this."

"It's alright, huh?"

"It isn't too bad." Her eyes sparkled and she flashed a flirty grin. "You're actually kind of charming."

Han stared at her with a deadpan look. "It took you this long?"

She smirked. "You can be such a cow-milker, sometimes."

"Yeah, alright, sweetheart."

An easy silence settled, dwindling away into an open, anxious moment, waiting for one of them to take the lead. Nearly a whole minute passed by before Han looked up, speaking quietly, hesitantly. "Could I ask you something?" Unalarmed, Leia offered a nod, but Han added, "About your parents?"

Leia appeared more amused than surprised. In fact, she didn't seem that surprised at all. If anything, Han thought she looked relieved, as if she had been waiting for him to ask.

With a twinge of guilt, Han came to realize that she probably had been.

Without meeting his eyes, Leia shrugged, a languid movement that suggested acceptance. "Go ahead," she allowed.

Feeling awkward and guilty, he wanted to truly show her that his interest didn't come from any harbored racism buried deep within his _white_ bones. No, his fascination with her family's culture stemmed from the snippets of her home life that he'd observed, for it was this environment that created the intelligent, curious, hard-working, dedicated young woman in front of him. He asked her, "Do your parents speak Spanish often at home?"

Cautiously, Leia allowed herself a small smile. "Yes. They really despise speaking English for most of the day."

"And you understand it?" he asked. "When they speak it?"

Now, Leia just laughed, her eyes filling with true amusement. "Han, I can speak it!" She paused. "Didn't you hear me speaking it with them when you first met them?"

"Well, yeah …" Han dropped his head in embarrassment. "I just didn't know how fluent you-" He looked at her. "Aw, never mind."

"No, hang on! You don't have to feel dumb about it. I know it makes a lot of people- uncomfortable."

"Leia, it doesn't make me uncomfortable."

"It did that first time."

"Okay, but that was just mostly surprise."

Leia nodded, not entirely convinced. "Alright. But most people don't know how to react. They don't understand and so they don't know what to do. It's not something they can be a part of." She beamed then. "But that's my favorite part."

Han chuckled shortly. "So, you speak it as well as they do?"

At once, Leia shook her head. "No. They were born with it, born into it. I know it well, but that doesn't change that I'm-" she grimaced. " _White._ It's not engraved into me like it is them. It's not my 'mother tongue'. But I can speak it well enough to be mostly fluent."

"And you do like- using it."

"It's something that I get to share with them- just them. And no one else understands it," she repeated. Her expression darkened and she quickly looked away adding, "It helps _me_ understand them."

Han nodded. "How long have you … known the language?"

Leia's smile turned into one of amusement. "My parents didn't know very much English when they came to the United States, though I think that someone was teaching them before they immigrated. They didn't know enough to begin teaching me when I was just a toddler learning to talk. Our neighbor Mrs. Jorgensen was very kind to my parents when they came to Aldera and she set up lessons to teach them how to speak English. I have memories of her teaching my parents through me. I learned how to speak before they did. Mrs. J would teach me how to say 'shoe' and Mama and Papa would put a shoe in my lap and keep telling me, _'zapato, zapato'_."

Han was dumbstruck. "So, you grew up learning two languages at once."

"Mmmm," Leia considered. "Yes, but Spanish came first because I was surrounded by it at home. My parents wanted me to know their language, so they've always spoken it at home. " She laughed to herself. "So Spanish was my first language. I learned English along with my parents until I went to school."

"And then everyone around you was speaking English," Han completed her thought.

Leia nodded. "It was- strange. It was the first time that I realized that my situation wasn't entirely normal. It took me a while to learn that the way I talked with my parents- well, that Spanish was just for home and English was the rest of my life." She smiled bitterly. "After that, it didn't take long for my English to catch up and surpass my understanding of Spanish."

"So, in short, you did learn two languages at once."

"Impressed?"

"I can't think of anyone I know who might be smarter than you."

"I'm not a genius. I just have an unusual love for learning." She picked at the edge of the tarp. "I want to learn French too."

Han shook his head, smiling to himself. "You know, you're nothing if not ambitious."

"I just have things I would love to do."

"What else?"

"Hm?"

"Tell me," he encouraged her. "Tell me what else you want to do."

The next laugh she uttered had a bitter edge to it and Han frowned when she winced at herself. "Plenty. Much more than I have time for."

"You're not gonna' tell me?"

"When I was little, I used to keep a list until I realized how conceited that was."

"A list?"

Ashamed, Leia nodded. "A list- of everything I wanted that I knew my parents could never give me." She resumed her antics of picking at the tarp. "It took me a while to understand. But before I did, I was bitter about it."

Han didn't know how to respond in light of Leia's guilt. He understood the darker side to Leia's past feelings, but he also truly believed that Leia Organa deserved to be just a little selfish.

So he asked her, "What kind of things did you have on your list?"

Leia pressed her uninjured palm to her forehead, clearly uncomfortable, but she answered anyway. "Stupid, meaningless things." She laughed shortly. "I remember there was a year when I swore to my parents that I wouldn't ask for anything else for Christmas or for my birthday if they took me to the state fair." She shook her head again. "They were trivial things. Material things. Things that I just wanted as a child- for the sake of having them."

"Or, did you want them for the sake of having a normal life?" Han asked. "A normal childhood? Maybe you saw all the other little bratty kids around you getting all that stuff and you just wanted it too."

Leia looked away to think about it. "In the third grade Mary Clarke's parents bought her a Cocker Spaniel and I could never explain to my parents why I suddenly hated her."

Han laughed.

"The thing wasn't even cute. She was the ugliest dog I'd ever seen, had something wrong with her. She- drooled everywhere."

"What kinda' dog did you want?"

Leia's cheeks turned rosy and she smiled broadly. "A Collie."

"You must like the big ones."

"But have you seen a Collie? They have such beautiful hair!"

"Agh!" Han threw his head back. "You do get all sappy over puppies, don't you?"

Leia shook her head, dumbfounded. "Of course not. I love the big ones most of all."

"Like Chewie?"

"I will admit that Chewie is almost as cute as a Collie."

"Almost?"

With a sly grin, Leia shrugged.

"Nah, you're just playing with me." He looked up to see her grinning, biting back a laugh as she spooned half a cup of yogurt into her mouth. "What else did you have on your list?"

Now glowing red, Leia shook her head, swallowing. "No. You've humored me long enough. I'd like to forget about that list before my parents ever find out it existed. Besides, I threw it away a long time ago. Ripped it up." She paused. "I think I fed the pieces to a neighbor's dog." Leia shook her head. "I don't want to talk about it anymore."

"Okay."

She turned to find a clock hanging by the door to the lobby and drew in a long, quiet breath. "I should go."

Han took a look at the hands of the clock. He frowned. "Five minutes."

"Han, I have to get to work."

He scurried to his feet and reached to take her hand. "I wanna' see what the radio is playing," he told her. "Then, I'll walk you back."

"Han-"

"Five minutes," he implored, taking her chin so that she was looking him in the eyes. Hers still glittered under the dim lights. "You better not be runnin' away again."

Leia dropped her jacket by the door and looked at Han with a playful glint in her eyes.

"What's the radio playing, flyboy?"

Grinning, Han reached through the open window of the Falcon's front seat and turned on the radio. At once, the radio sparked with a swing tune Han thought he recognized as "Oh, Johnny". Leia beamed. "I do enjoy the Andrews Sisters. How about that?" She stepped forward to take his hand and pulled him closer. "Come on. The song is almost over." She pulled herself up to him, her chin touching his chest, and she tilted her head back so she could meet his eyes. Han returned her tender gaze.. "I don't want to miss it."

* * *

Please note that all reviews go directly to feeding my muse! Thank you for reading!

Coming up ... Thanksgiving


	9. Chapter 9

**AN:** Well, would you look at this! Without going on too much of a tangent, the past couple of months have been eventful with 'Realizing I Have Anxiety' and 'Fun With Anxiety' and posting this chapter is honestly my proudest accomplishment in a while. Sorry to keep you guys waiting, but it's finally here! Enjoy!

* * *

 **Thursday, November 20, 1941; Thanksgiving**

The thrills of the past week could not be summed up simply by the blur of sweet kisses, stolen dances, and hours of conversation. The growing bond between Leia and Han was more easily explained in feelings than words.

It felt as if a great weight had been lifted from her that she hadn't even known was dragging her down. It was a relief to have Han as a confidant, to whom she could reveal her greatest burdens, knowing that he would stand by her side. She could only hope he trusted her to the same degree.

From this day forward, Leia knew the two of them would be wandering into very different territory- the playing field of public exposure. The past week had been nice in its offering of privacy. She couldn't have asked for anything better than the lunch runs, when she would sneak into the back of the shop and the two would share a lunch to whatever was playing on the radio. She thought the dances were Han's favorite part. She wouldn't have taken him for the dancing type, but he wasn't too bad on his feet and she did love the tug he'd give on her hands every time he pulled her closer for another dance. The light she saw in his eyes was catching, and she couldn't help but smile as she felt it grow in herself.

But starting today, things might be different. She wanted to keep her new relationship with Han simple and without pressure, but that perfect calm had only existed in privacy; the two had yet to test their relationship in the general public eye, to actually be together as a couple and to divulge their status openly in front of others. She wanted an actual life together, and today was just the first step into that, a test to see what their relationship would look like when it wasn't just the two of them hidden in the back of a mechanics shop.

It had also been something of an unspoken agreement that Thanksgiving dinner at Leia's home was not to be turned into a huge announcement to the Organas. As Leia was always amused to remind him, Han had met her parents _once_ before and that was not the lasting impression Leia wanted them to have in mind when she admitted her mother's delusions weren't entirely delusions. However, when she did tell Bail and Breha about Han, or anyone else for that matter, she didn't want it to be some blown-out surprise, though she was sure her mother would make it into something like that regardless. Her mother would be thrilled, utterly excited by the idea of her daughter with a man. And Bail- Bail Organa was a quiet man, the thoughtful and introspective type, but Leia could imagine his contempt when he came to learn that his daughter was enamored with the likes of a man like Han Solo. Or any man, for that matter. He could raise hell just fine with his fist if he thought it necessary.

 _They don't deserve that,_ Leia thought, _to have the rug pulled out from under them. Not today, at least._ For now, she would still let her father call her _princesa_ _pequeña_ if it made him happy _. He calls me princesa, too,_ she imagined telling her dad. _Just like you do._

Even with her reservations in announcing her relationship with Han at this point, she held no doubts that he could make a mighty fine impression on Bail and Breha Organa. But, perhaps, it wouldn't hurt if Leia first had time to warm her parents up to the idea.

 _Time,_ Leia mused as she finished putting on her makeup, dusting a brush along her her cheeks. Then, she picked an orange-red tone of lipstick from her small collection and swiped the color over her rosy lips. _Maybe, with a little time, I'll manage to pull off a smooth transition._

Finished with her work at the vanity, she hurried from her room and downstairs to the kitchen. Before she could make it to doorway, Leia could hear sizzling, steaming pans, the precise and heavy sound of a knife grating against the wood cutting board- and her father and mother trading rushed commands as they hurried about the kitchen. She stepped in to see Breha run across the dining area with a pan held high over her head. Glancing Leia's way, she rolled her eyes. "Well, it's about time you're up."

"Already up and at it?"

"There are things to be done."

"We still have time before he'll get here let alone before dinner. Not all seven courses need to be ready yet."

Breha rolled her eyes. "Much to be done," she mumbled. "And I thought we might have dinner first."

"First?"

"Yes. Many people have dinner first. We'll serve dinner shortly after Mr. Solo arrives, then we can sit together in the living room, speak with him, and have our dessert out there."

"Dessert?" Leia grinned. "In the _living room?"_

"Oh, please, Leia. You aren't five. There's no need to act all surprised."

"You still don't let me bring _crackers_ into the living room."

"Don't you remember the incident with the chocolate pudding?"

"Mother, I was five."

"And?"

"And now I'm twenty-three."

"Yes, we all have to grow up eventually."

"Dad, how early did Mother drag you down here?"

Bail laughed silently, the corners of his mouth drawing up in mirth. "I hardly sleep," he joked, hunching his shoulders in feigned fatigue. Leia smiled at him, snaking around her mother to reach her father and kiss his grizzled cheek. "She hasn't even let you clean up yet?" She touched his cheek before she turned to inspect her mother next. "And you haven't dressed. Have you even bathed? Is this how you plan to present your family to Mr. Solo?"

"Fine. Why don't you take over for one of us. See how much _you_ can get done." Breha gestured to Leia's healing hand with a nod. "I don't think you need to be handling the knives or touching the food with your hand like that. I don't think you would be of much help."

"You must be compensating for it," Leia smirked. "With me left disabled, you're down a worker."

Breha pressed her lips together, stopping to frown at a particular pan she was about to put in the oven. "I've never figured out how you get the flavor of the-"

"Ah, so you do need me."

"I could use your help," Breha admitted.

"I can help."

Even Bail turned from the stove to object. Breha frowned in sympathy. "Honey, I don't think you need to test your hand now." She leaned in to kiss her cheek. "I already miss having you help, but we might have to wait for Christmas to test that out."

Stifling down disappointment, Leia nodded. "Of course, Mamá."

"Maybe, you can help by watching over the pots I have on the stove."

Her gaze fell, but she put on a smile for her father as he came to her side to wrap her up in a one-armed embrace. Resting her cheek against his chest, she murmured, "Yes, Mamá."

* * *

Perhaps what made Han most nervous was the question of whether he ought to be nervous at all. He held no reservations about joining Leia's family for dinner, though he wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel about it. Really, he wasn't always sure what to make of any of anything when it came to Leia.

The two had detailed their plan of attack the day before. Han agreed that it probably would be best if they didn't spring the results of the last week on Leia's parents. Leia had given him a rough outline of what the evening would look like: a relaxed time of friendly conversation followed by the large holiday dinner, and , then Han would be on his way. They had even gone as far as to prepare for the worst case scenarios. Leia had begun giving him crash courses in Spanish. _This way,_ Leia had grinned mischievously, _my mother can't try teasing you without your knowledge._ He'd been paying undivided attention to her lessons, soaking in every word and squeezing his brain to understand everything she was telling him. It was so new, so _foreign,_ and so intriguing. He was well aware that his attempts at repeating greetings to Leia had utterly flopped, but once she stopped laughing, Leia always assured him that he sounded wonderful and was doing great. He didn't care about the lessons or even how well he was doing as much as he valued the connection it gave him to Leia, the linked understanding she'd previously described to him. He loved listening to her speak in the language too. If she didn't know it already, Han was sure it wouldn't take Leia long to realize that he _did know_ some of the words and phrases better than she thought- he just liked listening to her. And it made her happy. This was her world in which he was immersed, and he delighted in watching her in the environment where she was most comfortable.

Leia had insisted that it was entirely unnecessary to bring a gift, but Han could see no harm in bringing a small gift for his gracious hosts. For a family that was about to give Han his first real holiday, he thought they deserved something in return. He'd carefully tucked it into a long paper bag, and he brought the package with him up the stone pathway to the front door. Only the screen door was shut and, standing at the front steps, Han picked up on an aroma of unfamiliar spices and seasonings- certainly nothing that smelled like turkey and potatoes. He raised a hand and gently knocked on the frame of the door. He heard voices calling to each other inside until a woman came hurrying from a back room to greet Han at the door. He recognised the slender, dark-haired woman was Breha Organa, Leia's mother. She let him in with a smile, grabbing him for a hug as soon as he'd stepped inside. To say the least, he was caught further off guard when Breha rose on her toes to press her own cheek to his and kiss it. "Señor Solo!" she went on without hesitation. "Come in! Come in! It is so good to have you here! I'm glad you could make it!"

Han caught sight of Leia approaching behind her mother, an amused smirk tugging on the corners of her rosy lips. Her hair was loosely curled, no efforts made to keep it pinned up, so it fell in alluring waves to frame her face and her big, gorgeous eyes. She grimaced slightly as she clasped his hand. "I may have forgotten to warn you about the _besos_."

"Besos?"

"Kisses," Leia explained. "It's customary in many Hispanic countries to greet with kisses on the cheek."

Han managed a small nod. "That's something new."

"New for you," Leia quipped. "And I'm sure it's only the beginning of today's new learning experiences. You're inside House Organa now. This isn't Aldera."

"Any other culture shocks you mind warning me about?"

Leia's grin returned. "I think it might be rather fun to watch you get a new surprise every ten minutes." She reached out an arm. "Let me take your jacket. Mr. Solo."

Han looked at her, slowly surrendering his coat. "Just Han."

Leia's smile faded, as the familiarity approached the reality of their still-concealed relationship. "Sure, Han." She took his jacket from him.

Han stamped snow from his feet on the rug before he started across the floor. His eyes were drawn across the kitchen to the table where Leia's father was setting out dinner- platters of chicken and rice, a hefty salad bowl of the brightest greens, small dishes of dips and melted cheese, and- pork?

When Han sought out Leia again, her expression seemed to read as if she'd been expecting his questioning stare. But before he could come up with an appropriate question, Breha had found the haphazardly-wrapped package in his hands. He held it up, saying dumbly, "I brought- uh, some wine." He could practically sense Leia's amusement and he craned his neck to shoot her a glare. Breha came to sweep the bottle from his hands, beaming with more enthusiasm than Han had ever known someone to have. "You shouldn't have! Mr. Solo, this looks wonderful!" She held the bottle up to read its label. "It should go perfectly with dinner."

Han frowned. "It should?"

Leia took his elbow, steering him inside. She spoke quietly so only he would hear, "Dinner might not be what you're used to, but it's a little deal my parents and I worked out years ago. Thanksgiving and Christmas are the biggest holidays of the year. They get to cook for one and I get the other."

"So, no turkey?"

"As much as I'd relish a proper turkey for Thanksgiving, I refuse to let them ruin Christmas."

Though he had no memories of his mother serving a hefty feast every Christmas, no memories of platters of turkey and cookies and pudding salads lining the kitchen counter, he forced a laugh at what he presumed to be a joke. A spark of amusement lit Leia's eyes as she looked up at him, a silent laugh on her lips.

Leia continued to steer him towards her father and Bail looked up, but maintained gazes with his daughter. Han swallowed. "Papá," Leia spoke up, reaching to touch his arm reassuringly. "Este es Han Solo. Él es hombre que está ayudando con el coche."

"Ah," Bail nodded in recognition. "Sí." He dropped a potholder on the table before offering Han a soft, tanned hand. His shake was firm, steady, confident. At some point in his past, Han had learned that you could tell a lot about a person from the smallest details- like a handshake, and he nearly shrank back in surprise, noticing that the man's silent wisdom mirrored his daughter's.

"Call me Han," he corrected. "Please."

"Of course. Han."

His accent was heavy and distinct- as was Breha's, but in a way that made Han think the man might not be so used to speaking in English.

"My daughter says you helped with the car."

"Uh, I tried, sir, but it's poorly out of date and you'd be better off if you bought a newer model altogether. There were several problems that- wouldn't have stayed fixed for very long. The poor thing was on its last leg."

Bail frowned. "Last …" But then he understood and dismissed the apology with a wave. "But we are thankful for your generosity nonetheless."

"I'm just glad to be of help."

His face alight with an eternal warmth, Bail clapped him on the back before he returned to dinner preparations.

"Have a seat, Han," Breha beckoned him, pulling out her own chair. She and Bail took seats beside each other on one side and Leia took one of two on the other, nodding to Han for him to join her. "I hope you're hungry."

"If I wasn't before, I certainly am now."

"That's the spirit!"

Han watched the bowls and platters get passed around like an assembly line, starting with Bail who would pass each tray off to his wife, then Leia. Han was glad he came last in this process so he could take cues from the others as to how much of whatever was being served should go on his plate. Once they'd gone through every dish, Leia snatched his wrist from beneath the table, a rushed move as if to prevent him from doing something, reaching for something. He looked to her, but she only cleared her throat and bowed her head.

"Han," Bail said. "Do you say grace?"

"Huh?"

"We usually say grace before each meal. Do you …?"

"Oh. No, I'm …" _not really into that._ The words were on the tip of his tongue, but more than the acknowledgement that it would have been considerably insensitive stopped him. He caught a glimpse of the long scar carved across Leia's hand from the corner of his eye, a reminder of the similar one which marked his chin. He laid his hands on the table. "I don't as often as I should."

Breha responded with a sympathetic look, took her husband's hand, and then stretched her other arm across the table. Leia took her hand and looked up at Han. He could read the surprise there, the concern and love, and he did his best to return some reassurance with a gentle smile as he accepted her free hand.

Bail led them in a prayer of thanksgiving, then the only sound was forks scraping along the hefty plates. Before he could think too much about it, Han went for the salad of tomatoes, cucumbers, and avocados and swallowed a bite. He could have sworn Leia was hiding a laugh as she filled her own mouth. The flavors were sweet and tangy- different, but delicious.

"If you don't mind me asking," Breha suddenly spoke up, "what brought you to Aldera? Are you from Minnesota?"

"Not quite," Han allowed, wiping his mouth before he looked at her. From the corner of his eye, he caught movement, saw Leia raise her head to watch him. What did he want to admit when he hadn't opened up to Leia yet? But she had revealed herself to him, dug up nearly everything that was in her and exposed it to him. She at least deserved an honest answer as to his past. "I was born in Louisiana, but the old man moved us to Detroit before I can remember. I didn't like it there so much, so I've been moving around for the last year."

The reactions Han received were much more moderate than he'd anticipated. Instead of appearing appalled, Breha seemed intrigued if nothing else. "Are you leaving Aldera?"

Leia had already gone still, her full attention drawn carefully to his every word. Now, she was stiff, rigid with attention.

"I don't know about that. This place isn't too bad." He looked at Leia, purposefully. "I'm thinking I might stay here a while."

He thought he could see the knots in her shoulders undo themselves as she let herself relax.

"Well, that's wonderful to hear. It's not often we get any new residents up here. It's just a bit colder than most prefer."

Han thought he heard Leia sigh in relief, returning her attention to the heaping plate set before her. He looked at her until she sensed his gaze and met it, a cautious look of hope delicately slipping across her features. He would have to talk to her later, to reassure her that he wasn't leaving. Initially he hadn't planned on staying in Aldera, but a pull, a force of attraction was keeping him there. Currently, the source of that attraction was sitting beside him, her knee occasionally brushing his. . Although the growing bond between them was still so new, Han knew he wouldn't be leaving Leia anytime soon and she needed to know that.

"I do hope you stay for a while," Breha added. "You're very kind and generous for helping us."

"Aw, it's nothin'."

When everyone was finished, Bail gathered the dirty dishes and cleaned off the table while Breha forked the leftovers into glass storage containers, which she placed neatly in the refrigerator. Glancing at her daughter, she suggested, "Lelila, why don't you take our guest to the living room and entertain him while we finish cleaning up?"

Leia nodded at her mother, then smiled shyly at Han, beckoning him to come along with her. "This way, Mr. Solo."

Han followed her with his eyes, watching as she led him, walking ahead, an arm held out behind her. He yearned to grab ahold of that hand, to catch her and greet her as he hadn't been able to this evening. Leia seemed to have the same idea- as soon as they were out of her parents' sight, hidden in the short hallway that led to the living room, Leia turned to look at him, walking backwards, and held her hand up. His lust coming to an edge, Han accepted the invitation. He reached to brush his lips against hers, but she quickly turned and he caught her cheek.

"Not now, Solo," she teased, pulling him along.

He growled, a deep and pained sound that made Leia grin. "You're killing me, Princess."

She raised a single finger to her lips. "Unless you would _like_ to explain this to my father and mother right now."

"Sure! Do they even need an explanation?"

"Hush, flyboy." She abruptly turned to run up a short staircase, dragging Han by one arm behind her.

There was an open space at the end of the steps, a circular space of carpeted floor between a bedroom and a second bathroom. Leia pressed her palm against the door, letting it creak open, and led him in.

"A bit forward, don't you think?" Han was chuckling behind her. She ignored his jest, refusing to show any girlish excitement at leading him into her room. "I have my records in here," she explained, heading for a clutter of crates beside the radio that sat on her bedside dresser. "I can take one downstairs for us to listen to."

Surveying the multitude of colorful record cases, Han grinned. "That's quite the collection you've got there, Princess."

"I do love music."

"Ah, yes. Your Andrews Sisters."

"I like other performers too."

"Yeah?"

She knelt beside the cases and ran her fingers over the edges of the albums, the paper folders tickling her skin. "The Miller Brothers, Dorsey-"

"Which brother?"

" _Both._ And I have Bing Crosby and Johnny Mercer-"

Han stopped her. "You have Glenn Miller."

It took all Leia's will not to smile. "Well, yes."

He took up a specific record and showed it to her, asking, "When did you get this?"

She shrugged. "A while ago."

"I thought you didn't like Glenn Miller."

Again, she shrugged.

"When did you get it? Huh?"

Scrunching up her nose, Leia confessed. "Last week. There's a music store in Richville and they had a sale on Glenn Miller records."

Han gave a laugh full of mirth. "So you bought 'In the Mood'."

"And … a couple of others."

"You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd think someone's warming up to jazz."

"Then, isn't it a good thing you do know better?"

"Oh, I know better alright …"

Leia tossed him a smirk, remaining adamant. She emptied a case and took her time going through each one. "I can't find it!"

"Find what?"

"I can't find one of my Dorsey albums."

"Well, maybe it isn't in that one."

"No. It should be." She suddenly flushed. "I have them in order," she whispered.

"In order … ?"

"In alphabetical order."

"Oh, sweetheart-"

"Don't even start! It should be right here." She threw herself onto her belly and peered beneath her bed. Han crawled around to the other side to help her, lifting the end of the flowery bed sheets to look. Though he couldn't see any sign of the missing record, Han's eye was drawn to a miniature chest that was pushed against the wall. Struck with curiosity, he pulled the chest into the light, holding it for a moment to examine the ornate carvings of flowers and curling waves across the top and sides, each design painted over in light pastels. Leia's first and last name were carved across the top in tall, swooping letters along with a middle name he hadn't known she had: _Leia Hope Organa._

Han startled at the sound of her gasp and his gaze flashed to where she kneeled on the other side of the bed, staring back at the chest in his hands. "Please- put that back," she begged.

"What're you hiding in here?"

"Nothing." Her response was too quick, but Han wasn't going to argue with her. "Just-" she sighed. "I keep my acceptance letters in there."

"Acceptance-? You mean to colleges?"

Leia admitted it with a small nod. "Don't ask me why I keep them. I couldn't tell you. I just couldn't bear to show my parents."

Seized by intrigue, Han let the clasp snap open. Peering through the telegrams, he read a few college names. "I didn't know you ever applied to- anywhere."

"I never told them I was actually thinking about it before I changed my mind. But the letters kept coming … I've never found the courage to finally toss them. Maybe you could do it for me."

With a soft smile, Han shook his head at her and told her, "No. No. I think you need to keep those. Maybe, one day, they'll finally get through to you if I can't. I think you need to keep these on the top of your dresser so you can always see them."

"You aren't helping me here."

Han only chuckled. He was still shuffling through the pile, when he came across a folded sheet of paper with tattered, yellow edges and stains splattered across the corners and edges. By the moment he began to unfold the corners, he could feel Leia's pointed gaze. Written inside the folds in a child's practiced cursive handwriting was a neat, bulleted list:

 _-Ir a la feria_

 _-Un perro_

 _-Montar a caballo_

 _-Ver el océano_

 _-Ir a Nueva York_

Han was interrupted from further reading when Leia grabbed the sheet, tearing it down the middle. "Oh," she whispered as she stared at the two halves of the ripped note  
And, somehow, Han knew. "That's the list," he said, not accusing or asking, but simply remarking, because he knew.

Leia didn't even try to lie or to hide it. She merely succumbed to her own guilt and took on a look of shame, sinking back to the floor. "Yes."

Han crawled around the bed to join her, keeping his distance but offering his proximity as comfort. "Thought you said you got rid of it," he remarked gently.

"Would you believe me if I told you that I actually forgot?"

"Yeah. But I bet you made yourself forget. Didn't want to think about it, but you couldn't get rid of it. So you kept it with all the other things you wish you had."

"You know, I wish you couldn't read me so well."

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm just good at reading you. Doesn't mean I know everything about you."

"Actually, you wouldn't believe what a relief it is to have someone who gets me." She looked up at him through her lashes, chin dipped to her chest. Sure that she was in no mood to deny him now, Han leaned toward her, nudging the button end of her nose with his. Leia accepted his invitation, the warmth of his comfort reaching her, and she raised her head and tilted her chin. His lips met hers, caressing them with a sensuous delicacy, speaking for the intensity of his restrained desire. After several intimate moments, Leia broke the connection and burrowed into his embrace. He held her until they were startled apart by the clanging of pots downstairs in the kitchen. A flicker of a smile dancing across her lips, Leia nodded to the door. "We should go back downstairs. I think I remember where I left 'Blue Champagne'."

* * *

They occupied opposite chairs while Breha sat cuddled in Bail's lap on the adjacent couch. Leia sat with one leg crossed over the other, trying to keep an all-too-pleased look off her face. She felt some relief with the resolution she and Han had reached, a new and vital understanding that proved to only deepen the growing connection between them.

They spoke casual conversation, Breha asking Han this and that while Leia tried to give him some space. Han laughed and willingly conversed with Breha, in exchange asking her his own host of generic questions. All the while, the radio played softly in the background. Bail was in the middle of answering a question Han had directed at him when his wife suddenly gasped, urgently patting his thigh. "B!" she affectionately called him, jumping to her feet. "B, it's the song!"

Humoring his wife, Bail reached for her hand from where he sat. "What song?"

"Oh, you know! Bail, you know this is my favorite song. I love this song!"

Bail laughed at her, but joined her in standing in the middle of the living room. She beamed so brightly at him and flew into his arms. He smiled and willingly led her in a dance.

The song was a Jimmy Dorsey tune. 'Blue Champagne'. In the months since it had been released and often played on the radio, Leia's mother had made a point of stopping whatever she was in the middle of doing and dragging her father over for a dance. It was Breha's favorite song, and Bail would never leave her disappointed. He took her into his arms and led her across their living room floor.

As soon as they began, the older couple appeared to be completely entranced in their own dance, no outer awareness. Han glanced at Leia across the living room. "Does this happen often?"

Leia smiled. She could hardly joke about it; every dance she witnessed was the most beautiful example of love she knew. "They both love to dance. And it isn't just 'Blue Champagne'. Mamá will create her own dance to just about anything."

Han gave the same smile, understanding.

Laughing in delirious joy, Breha exclaimed, "Lelila! Come! Baila con nosotros. ¿Qué tan bien baila tu amigo?" But she was too distracted to actually wait or listen for a response.

Leia chuckled to herself. She glanced across her shoulder and caught Han staring wistfully back. Laughing silently to herself, she was unable to hide the smile that flickered across her lips. Finally, no longer able to hold herself back, Leia rose to her feet and crossed the living room to where Han sat. She held out one hand.

He looked up at her, eyes wide.

Leia cleared her throat.

"May I help you?"

"A dance please."

"Right now?"

"No. Later. Which is why I'm standing here, holding out my hand for you to take."

"You're kidding."

"My arm is getting very tired, Mr. Solo."

"Leia … "

"Han."

"In front of your parents?"

"Precisely."

"And you're okay with that?"

Leia dropped her arm to her side. "I'm- figuring this out, okay? I don't think it will help me any if I try to hide it."

But then Han stood with her. He found a space with enough room to move and asked her, "Dance with me?"

"I thought you'd never ask." She walked into his arms and immediately found a comfortable embrace. Her head fell on Han's strong chest and she could hear the sure beat of his heart. She swayed to its steady drum and let Han hold her, let him love her as only he did. He kept his arms wrapped around her even as she moved her head to rest on the other side of his chest and replaced one of her hands over his heart. Han found it, her delicate hand, and held it there against his chest.

Leia thought she could feel the gazes of her parents as they suddenly became aware of this scene, and Leia could only imagine her father's surprise at the sight of his daughter cuddling up to the mechanic. And her mother- well, Breha had already bet on it. _You were right, Mamá. He is kind and so very good to me._ She relinquished a long, relieved breath. _And I think I might be beginning to love him._

A bit of the outside chill had crept into the Organa home, but Han's body- his arms wrapped around her, holding her close- kept her warm against the cool air as they moved to the music. She sank further into his hold, comforting herself in his embrace like he was her warm blanket. But then she forgot about the chill, forgot it was even cold, forgot that her father and mother were just behind her and that she knew they must be watching. Now it was just her and Han, and that was all that mattered.

* * *

When Breha started the dishes that night, she drained the sink of the soapy water before Leia came near it. Laughing, Leia grabbed a knife from the sink and waved it at her side. "I suppose you no longer trust me with knives, do you?"

"Listen to yourself joke about it," her mother scoffed. "Now, put that down!"

If only to please her mother, Leia carefully set the knife down and stepped away from the sink so Breha could take over.

Han had left over an hour ago, taking his leave soon after their sweet interlude. Neither of Leia's parents had spoken a word or asked a single question on the matter, but Leia knew they'd taken the hint and she could sense the burning questions within her mother. Any moment now ...

"Do you think Mr. Solo enjoyed the evening?" she finally spoke up. Leia allowed herself a small smile as she watched her mother's back. "Yes. It seemed that he especially enjoyed yours and Papá's dinner. He enjoys a little more spice."

Breha was silent for a moment and Leia tried to imagine what her mother might be thinking, the evaluation she must be giving Han. Of course, Han was a bit roguish compared to the quiet and simple folk of the town, but Leia thought he'd made great impressions on Bail and Breha Organa and he'd been a gracious guest. Although, she considered how she loved scoundrel Han more and she'd missed him all day.

When Breha stopped in the middle of her work, hands frozen in a pile of dirty dishes, Leia noticed- and she waited.

"Leia, if … if you don't mind me asking …"

"Han and I are together, Mom."

A flash of surprise burst through her gaze, confusing Leia, who couldn't imagine why her mother might react in this manner to the sudden announcement. _Surprised I followed your advice, perhaps? That's right, Mamá. You were right._

Breha appeared to be taking a moment to compose herself before she held her daughter's gaze. "You're kidding."

"Why would you think I'm kidding? I'm only going to say it once, so you ought to relish it, but you were right."

"Right ... ?"

"About what you said …" Leia prompted her. "At the clinic … when I got my stitches."

"Oh?"

"Do you not remember that entire conversation? You said it was _obvious_ that I was in love with Han."

"Oh." Breha couldn't seem to meet her daughter's gaze, but was grappling for an invisible clue, some confusion still clouding her eyes. It was still there when a brilliant blush lit up her cheeks. "Oh! Oh, yes. I do remember."

"You seem very surprised."

"Well, I suppose I am … Lelila, I have a confession to make."

"A confession?"

"Yes, there is something I should tell you. The truth is that, when we had that conversation at the hospital and I told you those things-"

"How it was so obvious?" Leia laughed. "That you could tell by the look on my face?"

Breha chuckled. "Yes. All those things. The truth is that I was only teasing."

"Yes, Mom. I think I know that."

"No, no, honey. I mean that I was joking."

That made Leia stop. "Joking? Joking as in … ?"

"I didn't actually think that you two were … _anything_ together. But you reacted so strongly, it was amusing. I had no idea the two of you were actually together."

"But you _thought-_ "

Breha laughed, genuinely amused. "I'm just as surprised as your father. I didn't intend to invite Mr. Solo as a way of teasing you; truly, your father and I both wanted to be sure that he was properly paid for his help. I didn't imagine that you two- well, I think I've made that clear by now."

Leia laughed easily. "Well? What do you think?"

"What do _I_ think?"

"Do you- approve?"

"Ha! I think he seems like a good man. Though, even after today, I can't say I know him very well. He was very nice, but he didn't look so comfortable. Except for when he was dancing with you, that is."

"Han isn't very good at sitting still."

"Ah, that explains it."

"But he did really enjoy dinner. He told me so."

"I think you already said that."

"I did?"

This time, Breha's laughter was silent, but she smiled warmly with much excitement for her daughter, and she patted her knee with tender affection. "I think I like him."  
Leia nodded her head once, her hands rising to fiddle with the hem of her sleeves. "I think I do too."

Breha gave one more laugh, stooping to drop a kiss on Leia's head before she left.


	10. Chapter 10

"My parents would like you to join us."

Leia's invitation came early one afternoon. From her careful whispers, Han could tell she was at work, calling him from the library's phone while taking care not to draw attention to her very personal call. He, of course, was sitting in the back of the shop, surrounded by the constant whirs and sparks of various machines. He strained to hear her voice, pressing the receiving end to his ear and leaning close to the telephone set.

Focusing his gaze on the small calendar clipped to his desk, Han squinted to read the date: December 1, 1941. He scratched his head as if the action would help him to understand. "Today?"

"I know, it isn't much notice … "

"It's the first of December."

On the other end, she laughed. "Did you enjoy Thanksgiving?"

"I told you I did."

"Thanksgiving is nothing. Thanksgiving is just a formality. You are not prepared for Christmas. _Christmas_ is a season around here. Not just a single holiday, but a full season that begins the day _after_ Thanksgiving and lasts through Christmas Day. By our usual standards, my family is terribly behind. So, we're inviting you to come decorate with us."

"Decorate your house?"

For a long moment, Leia was silent and Han feared that he'd said something wrong. Truly, he couldn't comprehend the importance of something so trivial like decorating a house for Christmas when said holiday was three weeks away.

"You know, if you don't want to come, you only need to say so."

"No, no! Aw, sweetheart. What time do you want me there? I'll come."

She laughed again and Han thought he could pick out her amusement in the sweet tone. "Did you know, Solo, that you made a half-decent impression on my father and mother while you were over for Thanksgiving?"

"I did?"

"Yes, you did. They seem to like you alright. Much more, I think, than my father wants to admit."

"You're kidding."

"And I think I like you alright, too."

"Do you, now?"

"And I'm really hoping you might join my family for the holidays. Unless you have other plans."

"I, uh, don't have any plans as of yet."

"No?"

"I think I might be able to join you after all."

"It would be quite lovely if you could, Mr. Solo."

"Today, you said?"

"Yes, today."

"How soon?"

"I'm getting out in half an hour."

"That's early."

"Didn't you hear it's supposed to snow pretty hard today? Businesses will probably close earlier, but my boss is letting me out early since I have to drive out of town. I don't suppose you could pick me up and go straight to my house?"

"I can do that."

"Alright."

"Alright. See you later, Princess."

"Later, Scoundrel."

* * *

Han couldn't say he understood the reason behind any of it; he only knew that she was happy. They all were. The old hymns and Christmas tunes playing on the radio were merely background noise to the sight beside him: Leia Organa, head tilted back in laughter, hands raised high above her head, coddling a garland of tinsel in her hands. Breha and Bail danced around her, juggling delicate ornaments in their arms and running back and forth between the couch and the tree.

Han found himself holding a small container of bent wires, handing them one by one to Leia's parents so they could hang each ornament. He was untangling several for Breha who seemed to have forgotten she needed another as she circled the tree, pointing out several spots. "¡Aquí! Bail, here! In the back! It's practically bare! Why don't you bring me one of those shiny red ones."

Han prepared to hand her another, still keeping an eye on Leia. Her face shone brilliantly, a fervent joy sending a rosy blush up her cheeks and constant laughter and smiles to accompany those of her parents. The sound was melodic, sweet like the song of chimes in the wind. The Han of only a few months ago would have laughed, or, perhaps snorted, at the idea of planning a month ahead, decorating the entire house as a family, singing. But Han was struck by the joyful mood, because it was so foreign to him. He struggled to understand what could make them so happy. Without feeling slighted, Han understood that, for Leia, it wasn't the simple joy of his presence. It was the joy in anticipation of a single holiday.

"Wait!" Breha exclaimed once nearly all the ornaments were hung on the tree. "Has Han put one up on the tree? This whole time, he's been handing out the hooks. Dear! Why didn't you say anything?"

"¿Qué hay de la estrella?" Bail suggested.

Naturally, Han turned to Leia for a translation. She smiled, turning the brilliant expression on him. "Would you like to put up the star? It's the most important part."

"That doesn't sound like something I should do."

Leia seized his hand, pulling Han back to her side. "But we want you to. It's the only part that's left. Come on. It's nothing scary." She retrieved a pointy star from a box and laid it in Han's hands.

"You just said it's the most important part."

Leia laughed. "Do you know what the star is for?"

It hit Han then. Looking around the room, at the tree, the mess of ornament packaging and wrappers, he found himself lost in the midst of the joy. He didn't belong there, in the middle of it. He didn't belong there at all, he was sure, butLeia's gaze was so reassuring. She anchored him there as if to insist: _You belong right here with the rest of us. If you want this too._

Han shook his head, once again aware of the unfamiliarity of the scene, and Leia gave him a comforting smile. She then stood to retrieve a hefty book from the table beside the couch. Returning to his side, she sat on the floor and laid the book in front of them, splitting open the gold-edged pages.

She read aloud, "Now when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judaea in the days of Herod the king, behold, there came wise men from the east to Jerusalem, Saying, Where is he that is born King of the Jews? For we have seen his star in the east, and are come to worship him.

When they had heard the king, they departed; and, lo, the star, which they saw in the east, went before them, till it came and stood over where the young child was. When they saw the star, they rejoiced with exceeding great joy."

"Oh." For the longest moment, it was the only syllable Han could manage.

Ever gentle and patient, Leia put the book aside, stood, and reached to pull Han to his feet. "Do you want to put the star up?" she asked again, with a hint of caution in her eyes.

"Yeah," he whispered. "Sure."

Carefully clutching the star in one hand, Han noticed the expressions of his hosts as he stepped forward to place the final ornament. Breha nestled into her husband's embrace and Leia stood close beside them, her full attention on Han as she beamed radiantly at him.

 _You're all so happy,_ he thought. _Where did you get it from? Of everything I'm missing, what is this?_

He secured the glittering star on the top of the tree and the Organas clapped and cheered. "Beautiful!" Breha exclaimed, still clapping. "Beautiful! The house and the tree look perfect! Thank you, Han! Now, you just wait here. Let me fix up some lunch for all of us."

Bail hurried off to join her, leaving the two young people alone in the living room.

"You did a magnificent job," Leia praised him, a sultry smile playing with her lips and tinting her cheeks rosy. "It all looks very wonderful."

"Yeah?" Han settled onto the couch, stretching his arms across the back. "You had me working for quite a while, missy."

Leia came to join him, curling her legs beneath her and cozying right up to him. "Are you alright?"

"'Course. I'm fine. Why?"

"I'm afraid we might have made you feel uncomfortable. I suppose you don't really celebrate Christmas."

"Everyone celebrates Christmas, right?"

"For different reasons, sure. But you looked … like you felt out of place. And I'd feel so awful if I made you feel uneasy. It wasn't right of me to put you in a position like that. You shouldn't have come if you didn't want to."

"I never said I didn't want to come."

She frowned. "You didn't sound very enthusiastic either."

Han dropped his head. She wasn't wrong, but she wasn't right either. How could he explain what this felt like, what being in her family's home was like for him? He was a foreigner to this place, to this setting. Even though he wished he could belong, he was sure he never could. "I was confused," he admitted. "Lost."

"Lost how?"

"Sweetheart, do you have any idea how different your life is from mine? All of this? I don't get it. I don't get why you and your parents are so happy."

Leia's smile was gentle, understanding. She found one of his hands, pulled it from its resting place on the couch rest, and she brushed her thumb across his rough knuckles. "I grew up with it."

"And I grew up without it."

"You know, you're more than welcome here. Always. You deserve to be happy."

"I don't get where you get this happiness from."

"It's just faith, Han. Faith and hope and love." Still clasping his hand, Leia turned his palm up and raised it to her lips. "But the greatest of these is love."

"I didn't grow up with any of that, Leia."

She shifted in her seat so she could look at him. "Are you happy, Han?"

"Yes."

"Then, why do you feel lost?"

"You're too good. You're the best thing I can ever remember happening to me."

The way Leia nearly turned away, the angle at which she turned her chin and watched him from behind her eyelashes was the only hint of flattery that she dared to show. "You didn't answer me."

"I can't just feed you, Leia!"

Leia raised her brows and Han grunted, catching his head in both hands. "That- didn't come out right."

She laughed. "Oh, please explain."

"I don't know- how to keep you. I can't just-" he sighed. "I'm not scared that Chewie's just suddenly gonna' decide he doesn't like me and run away to some other guy who can build him a dog house mansion."

Leia giggled, delightfully amused.

"I feed him and he likes me. That's all it takes! But I can't just- feed you. I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

"I think you're doing just fine."

"But I don't have any of _this."_ Accusedly, Han pointed to the innocent tree standing in the corner. "I don't understand it. And that's a part of you."

"Have you ever thought that, maybe, Chewie doesn't want a mansion; he doesn't even care if he gets a dog house. Chewie just wants an owner who loves him and plays with him and feeds him. That's all he wants."

"What about you?" He was almost too afraid to look at her, but he watched her for his response. He didn't need to wait because she crawled into his lap and moved restlessly until he took the hint and wrapped his arms around her. She curled up in his embrace, and laid one hand on his chest. _There._ Han wanted to keep her there, and he tightened his arms around her small form as if to do just that.

"I want you as you are," she whispered. "And I won't leave."

This woman- she was so amazing. Han held her closer, burying his nose in her hair and inhaling her sweet scent.

"You know what scares me?" Leia spoke amidst the quiet, and it startled him.

He waited for her to continue.

"Sometimes, I worry that you don't feel comfortable talking to me."

He had no words- as if they'd all gotten stuck in the back of his throat. He could have choked on the clogged mess of words lodged back there, and he might have preferred it if he were choking rather than having so many words, so many thoughts- yet having no idea what to say. He debated speaking up, even opened his mouth to ask, but immediately shut it. _No. You've already proven for the day how_ great _you are with words. Better to leave it be._

Leia caught her breath, turning in his arms to once again face him. "I want to talk to you," she said. "I want you to feel like you can talk to me. I can listen. I'm worried that I haven't proven that to you."

"Stop talking like that."

Leia frowned. "No, Han. Since we met, you've listened to me pour out every dark secret and desire that I have in myself. But I don't know what you want." She paused, her brown irises darkening with gloom. "I don't know where you come from. I apologize if you don't like talking about it, but you haven't ever told me anything about your past."

"Thanksgiving-"

"I could tell that wasn't the whole truth. Or, entirely a lie. Whatever it was, it wasn't the whole story. If there is something in your past that you would rather keep buried, I don't mean to intrude, but I want you to know that I am here to support you just as much as you have supported me. I can listen. And you can lean on me."

"I know. You're so amazing, sweetheart. I know."

"If I shouldn't ask, all you have to do is tell me."

Han took hold of her waist, caught her between his two hands. He held her right in front of him so that she knew he wanted her there, and he latched onto her uneasy gaze. "I'm not used to the happy family stuff. Growing up, I didn't have everything you do. And I've never had anyone to talk to before you. I know you'll support me, Leia. I just don't know how to talk about it."

She was steady, always steady. Always strong, always there, always good. Gosh, he loved her.

She burrowed her face into his chest, then reached for his hand again, leaving a generous trail of kisses along his rough knuckles. Han caught her chin and she smiled before she met him there, meeting his mouth with hers.

"Oh!"

Leia jumped from the couch fast enough to give anyone whiplash, and Han assumed a normal seating position just as quickly. Though the gobsmacked look on Breha Organa's face was reward enough, Han was even prouder to see that he could make Leia turn red as a cherry before her mother.

"Oh!" Breha gasped again. "Oh, I didn't mean to interrupt any- Oh, dear." Muttering to herself, the poor woman fled the room.

Sensing that Leia didn't want the first word, Han offered, "We can't keep doing this at _your_ house. It really kills the mood when I remember that your parents are in the next room."

Quickly and suddenly, Leia seized a pillow from the sofa and made to attack Han, but he hurried to his feet to intercept her attack, catching Leia in his arms, and she reduced herself to a fit of hysterics. That sound- it was so delightful a tune to Han's ears that he couldn't resist the urge to tickle her the moment he thought the merry tune was dying somewhere in the back of her throat. She gasped and squealed, throwing her head back. "Let go!" she breathed. "Let go! Please!"

"Well, don't get excited."

Leia managed to free herself, her hair now a mess, thick curls loose from their rolls. Leia spun around to look at him, her face still red as a rose. A dazzling grin graced her lips and Han was consumed. "Oh, flyboy," she laughed, breathlessly. He thought she was going to say more, but she just laughed.

* * *

Dining with the Organas was always its own affair, Han thought as he sat down at the family's table for only the second time. They didn't own much, had no care for material possessions, but they held their identity in the smaller things, such as the evening's meal. Breha served him a bowl of rice and pork with a generous helping of pinto beans.  
"Oh!" she exclaimed. The woman had a tendency to do that, often when it was near dead quiet, and Han would quite nearly jump out of his skin every time. "Lelila, before I forget, Sylvia dropped off the music for this year's program. She put it in a nice folder. I left it on your bed."

Swallowing quickly, Leia nodded and said, "Thank you, Mamá."

"This year will be the greatest program," she added, "I'm sure."

"You say that every year," Leia offered with a hushed chuckle.

"Mm, but Han will get to watch you this year. I bet he would enjoy that."

"What is this?" he asked, managing to hold back a smirk when Leia blushed slightly.

Breha beamed, a wild and excited grin on her face. "Did you know Lelila has secret talents?"

"Secret talents?"

 _"Mamá."_

"Have you ever heard her sing, Han?"

Oh, _this_ was good.

Han relaxed in his chair, kicking back just a little and turning a grin on Leia. "No. I haven't. In fact, she's never told me she _sings_."

"Well, she does, and she has the most beautiful voice. Like an angel, they say at church."

"You don't say."

"They always give her a solo for the Christmas service."

"She's that wonderful? Leia, you've never told me!"

Before Breha could glance her way, Leia offered Han a dirty scowl and he could have laughed at her embarrassment. Her glare vowed murder, but Han was more intrigued than intimidated.

His curiosity did not remain unfulfilled, as Breha continued her revelation. "I heard Pastor Carl wants to leave 'O Come Emmanuel' all to you!"

"You are going to do so well!" She danced around Leia's chair, pinching her cheek, then stroking it, and, finally, leaving a kiss there. "I can't wait to hear you perform! Bail! ¿No lo hará maravillosamente? Nuestro ángel."

"You exaggerate."

"Hardly!" Breha appeared appalled by the accusation. She turned back to Han. "Our Lelila started learning to play the piano as soon as she could talk. She was singing with the rest of the congregation at church just as soon. And, my Lord, she had the prettiest voice. This small girl with this bold, beautiful voice … I can't wait for you to hear it!" She scampered off, muttering distractedly to herself. Turning to Leia, Han asked, "That young?"

She straightened in her seat and threw back her head, dismissing the claims with a flip of her hand. "Oh, you know. Typical child prodigy."

* * *

"You wanna' know what happened to me?" Han asked Leia as they sat together near the fireplace, his arm around her shoulders. Bail and Breha were cleaning up the storage boxes left scattered in other areas of the house, leaving the young couple to themselves.

Han had ended up staying much later than he'd planned- long enough that Chewie had come bounding from a block away where Han had gotten a coworker to dog-sit. He'd _woofed_ in greeting to Han, and then, seeing Leia, he'd tucked himself between the two.

Han could have rolled his eyes at the dog, but he smiled and ran a hand through Chewie's shaggy fur.

Leia had grown quiet- as if in anticipation. Perhaps it was time.

She waited for him to speak, and Han found strength and support in her silence. "What do you want to know?"

She shrugged nonchalantly. "What do you feel like telling me?"

He considered. There was so much he could tell her, so much she didn't know, so much that he didn't want to think about. But, perhaps, it was more than irony that he found himself standing toe-to-toe with Leia, forced to face all his unpleasant memories. There she was- Leia who couldn't escape the cards handed to her, and Han who couldn't bear to lay his out.

Han thought about it. What could he tell Leia of the conflicted and lonely childhood he'd endured? He remembered a disheveled box home on the outskirts of Chicago; he remembered the woman who always dressed in dusty smocks- cloths so torn and shredded that they would scratch him when he buried his face in her lap. Han thought he even remembered her name- Jane. But the haven-like memory of the gentle, loving woman was buried amidst tears and fear and grief. She was so beautiful, so kind, but sad. And everything around her was so shaded and uncertain: walls crumbling, gunshots echoing down dark alleys.

At first, he struggled to think past the pain, past the brokenness, but he remembered Leia who sat beside him, melting into his side.

"I could tell you," he relented, "It's not a pretty picture… but it doesn't matter. Anything that came before you in my life doesn't matter anymore. It- it's so far away."


	11. Chapter 11

**AN:** Aaand, over two months later! Not nearly enough kudos to Mara/swimmergirl71 for continuing to beta for me and working so hard on this chapter. (Mara, I'm so sorry I'm so lazy!)

* * *

 **Sunday, Dec. 7, 1941**

As soon as the Sunday morning's service was over, the Corusca Diner was full, a lively buzz hanging over the dining room as the small tables filled quickly, and more littered the front counter. This afternoon, Leia managed to get a spot up front, arriving ahead of the crowd to secure a seat beside Mirax and Iella. "Come here, honey!" Mirax cried, patting the seat between her and Iella as she thrust a bottle of Coke high into the air. "I got you a pop and it's still cold, aren't you glad?"

"It's cold outside!" Iella scowled, hugging her own mug of steaming coffee between both hands. "The two of you have a serious problem. I couldn't drink a cold pop now!"

"Hand it here!" Leia laughed. "I don't think I'm quite awake yet."

With a gleeful smirk, Mirax set a bottle wet with perspiration before Leia. "Drink up, my dear. The day is young, and you look like you could use an extra boost this afternoon."

"I woke up early," Leia complained, scrunching her nose. "Some nightmare …" She shook her head. "Then, I couldn't go back to sleep."

"That's too bad," Mirax shook her head over her bottle. "Drink up, and wake up. The day is still young." Playfully, she elbowed Leia, then turned back to the counter. "We-edge! This poor girl needs food!"

Iella's eyes bulged humorously. "We haven't even been served yet!"

 _"Fifteen_ minutes!" they all heard Wedge hollering from the back, feet stomping as he made his way from the hidden kitchen. "We've been open fifteen minutes and Hobbie just turned the burners on." He turned a scowl on Mirax. "Unless you'd like your patty cold?"

"The lettuce and tomatoes should be cold," Mirax decided, tilting her chin up in deep thought. "It would provide a nice contrast to my well-cooked hamburger, don't you think?"

Wedge shook his head. "Iella and Leia will get the first two off the burner."

Iella smiled, turning doey eyes on her boyfriend.

"But no guarantee yours will be as cooked." He gave one last scowl, then sauntered around the counter.

Iella laughed at Mirax, but her head tilted in disapproval. "Do you have to be so harsh to him?"

"We're joking! He's not a softy; he can handle it!"

"Even so," Leia warned, "mind your manners." She nudged back. "He's still worried about Wes."

Mirax grimaced. "I don't want to think about where he could be."

Leia had no response to that, and so she turned away, facing forward in her seat and sucking mindlessly on her striped straw. In the background of the diner's commotion, the radio was on, jazz tunes and swing filling the small spaces of quiet, but the local stations were mostly drowned out by the louder jukebox as the quarters came rolling in and new melodies played. It was a joyful chaos that encompassed the dining room, laughter billowing like happy clouds and forks and knives clinking to attest to a good meal.

Mirax and Iella talked over Leia, conversing jovially, laughing, calling across the restaurant when acquaintances entered. Leia was silent, wary. Wedge returned, depositing a plate for each woman. "Do me a favor and hurry up this time," he muttered. "I promised Mr. and Mrs. Darklighter I'd help them find and put up a tree."

"Ooh!" Iella's interest piqued. "What did you find her?"

"I don't know yet."

"You haven't even found them one yet?"

Wedge shrugged innocently.

"Well, you ought to find them a real nice one after all the trouble they've gone to for the both of us. Get them a real nice Douglas fir."

"Oh, don't worry," Wedge shook his head. "I'll stop next door and get them a real live spruce."

"It's not funny! Do you even know how you're going to haul that over to their house? That little Chrysler of yours certainly won't do."

As if to beg for mercy and forgiveness, Wedge turned to Leia. "Han has got that Ford, doesn't he? That nice truck?"

Leia nodded. "I'm sure Han would be more than willing to help. You could call the shop in Richville and you can ask him."

"Yeah. Yeah, I might have to."

As soon as Wedge left the counter to wait on the other tables, Mirax spun around to toss Iella a glare. "Oh, please! You abuse the poor man more than we do!"

Leia sighed to herself, drowning out the bustle around her. Someone had paid the quarter to have the juke play, and the warm, bass-baritone timbre of Bing Crosby filled the diner with his rendition of "You Are My Sunshine". It clashed with the orchestral movements floating from the radio just across the lunch counter. CBS, she thought she'd heard earlier, was covering the New York Philharmonic concert. But the strings were lost to Crosby's vocals as the upbeat tune continued on, echoing the diner's mood. Not quite out of interest, Leia strained to hear the radio. A crescendo hit suddenly, the violins and violas joining forces with the low strings to reach their struggling climax, and Leia gasped involuntarily, her breath lost to her as the strings created together a chord of suspense. Like the trek up a mountain, their sound climbed, higher and higher, tangling Leia up in anticipation. But then the sound seemed to cut out and Leia leaned closer to hear.

Someone started to sing to the jukebox and Leia felt herself growing irritated. "I can't hear the radio," she complained, mostly to herself, but Mirax looked her way and frowned. "What could be playing on the radio that's got you so interested?" she teased. "It's only a concert."

Leia shook her head. "I wanted to hear the radio." She leaned further across the counter and Iella gasped, pulling her food out of the way. She huffed a sigh, casting a long look over her shoulder. "Shut the jukebox off!"

"Leia!" Mirax hissed, tugging on her collar and pulling her back. "Get down, would you? What's so important on that blasted radio that-!"

"Shh!" Leia put a finger to her lips, swatting her friend away. "Someone, turn that music off! It sounds like there's a news bulletin!"

"Leia," Iella waved at her. "It's just the concert-"

"But I don't hear them playing!"

"Hey, alright!" Wedge hollered from the other side of the diner. "Just turn the music off, would you?"

Finally, the overwhelming music cut out and the drone of the radio filled the diner.

 _"-on the principle island of Oahu. We take you now to Washington."_

A news bulletin.

Nervous whispers flitted across the dining area as a heavy sense of unease filled the patrons. Someone hushed them just as a new voice took over on the radio.  
 _"The White House is now giving a statement. The attack apparently was made on all naval and .. and on naval activities on the principle island of Oahu."_

It was quiet. It was _so_ quiet, and Leia didn't think it should be so quiet. Something was wrong. Nothing about this was right.

She covered her mouth with a hand as if to stop any sound from escaping between her lips, though she could hardly utter a cry. She could hardly think over the harsh pounding of her own heart as it seized with shock. Disbelief. No. No, it couldn't be real. Hawaii- Hawaii was so far away; how could it be so close?

Suddenly, Mr. and Mrs. Darklighter were leaning over the lunch counter, joining the mass crowd around the small radio, adding to the silence.

" _A Japanese attack upon Pearl Harbor naturally would mean war._

At that moment, someone, some patron in the restaurant gained their senses as a throaty cry broke through the pregnant silence. Then, came the cries, and several women sobbed into handkerchiefs as the broadcast continued, the announcer's voice as broken as their hopes.

 _"We have just now received word that our defenses at Manila, capital of the Phillipines, have also been attacked."_

"Oh, God!" someone cried, an ugly gurgle from the bottom of everyone's souls.

"Change it!" another scorned. "Come on! Won't someone change the channel? Can't you tell no one wants to hear this?"

But no one responded to the angry man's pleas. Her hand shaking, Leia reached for the dial on the radio and changed the channel. The radio erupted with static cheering, an enthusiastic voice announcing a football game. A player was just rounding up to the 50-yard line when the call broke through. _"We interrupt this broadcast to bring you this important bulletin from the United Press flash Washington. The White House announces Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor."_

She turned it again.

" _This is CBS in America calling Honolulu. Go ahead, Honolulu. …"_ Static. Silence. Waiting. Hoping, praying, swearing, believing- or wishing. _"This is CBS in America calling Honolulu. Go ahead, Honolulu. …"_

No one breathed.

 _"Go ahead Honolulu. …"_

But the sound of a pin dropping would have echoed in the diner's uncustomary silence.

 _"We should like to now try to call in- Manila, the capital of the Philippines Commonwealth. Go ahead, Manila. … This is CBS in America, calling Manila. Go ahead. …"_

Manila. Where was Manila in the Philippines? What was on Manila, anyway? Leia knee the answers, but they were stuck in the back of her throat, desperately clawing for a way out.

" _We regret that we are unable to contact either Honolulu or Manila. We return you now to William L. Shirer in New York."_

"Oh, God," came the new cry- a different woman. "Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, _dear_ …" The rest was lost to the burgeoning cacophony of cries.

That was enough, Leia thought, but she lacked the strength to turn it off. She was paralyzed by her mounting shock, and she fell limp in her seat, nearly crashing into Mirax behind her. She'd forgotten her friend was there, or that Iella was still at her other side. She'd forgotten about people, about true fear, about words, into all it came crashing at once.

"Oh, my Lord," Mirax muttered, stumbling to her feet and pulling Leia with her. She seized her jacket, tripping across the floor, eyes glassy and red. "Oh- oh ... Oh!"  
Then, they all seemed to breathe at once, no relief in the notion whatsoever, but they were breathing- and with breathing, feeling returned.

"We-" Mr. Darklighter choked on a cry, pushing himself away from the counter. He had a towel slung over his shoulder, already damp with grease. He took it into his hands, wringing it fiercely, pulling on it between his fists until the old man's knuckles were white. "We're closed for the day," he called across the dining area, voice shaking tumultuously. "Go home to your families."

But Leia was stuck, couldn't move. Feeling was still returning. "Come on," Mirax murmured to her, pulling on her arm. "Come on." She took Leia's hand, and Leia turned slowly to look at her, catching a glimpse of her face, her puffy, red eyes. "We gotta' go home. We have to go home!" She yanked on Leia's arm, reached out to Iella, and tore out of the diner.

* * *

She should have gone home. If only to ease her parents' worries, she should have allowed Mirax to drive her home as she'd offered, but Leia had refused. Instead, she'd taken the keys to Mirax's car, taken her home, and promised she'd have the car back by that evening. Understandably concerned, and still grief-stricken, Mirax had hesitantly complied.

The drive was a blur and her own intentions were shrouded in half-awareness; it wasn't until she caught sight of the Richville public library at the end of the street that she grasped what she was doing.

Leia pulled the car over to the curb, keeping her distance from the mechanic shop while she tried to steel herself. She gripped the steering wheel in both hands, maintaining a white-knuckled hold while she waited for her own breaths to even out. Each one came with a shudder, threatening to send the first tear down her cheek. "Get ahold of yourself!" she muttered with furious distaste. Then, for the shortest moment, when Leia caught a single breath, enough to fill a moment of silence, she remembered the radio to her right and the nonstop news broadcast that had been playing since she'd left the diner with Mirax.

" _The Japanese have attacked Pearl Harbor from the air and all naval and military activities on the island of Oahu, the principle American base on the islands. That was Secretary Early's message. Short while later, he dictated another message. A second air attack has been reported. This one has been made on the army and navy bases in Manila, and here's a last-minute Associated Press flash from Honolulu: a naval engagement is in progress off Honolulu with at least one black enemy aircraft carrier in action against the Pearl Harbor defenses."_

Leia shut the radio off with an aggressive punch before stepping out of the car and slamming the door shut. She couldn't decide what she was mad at, the source of her sudden contempt. She didn't think she felt sad anymore; her throat was no longer clogged up with grief. She was frustrated, tired, afraid.

What was she doing here? What had brought her here- now? She should- she should be home, she knew. In the safety of _home_ with _family._ Instead, Leia found herself standing outside the mechanics shop where Han worked, still dressed in her Sunday best with a ketchup stain on her blouse from leaning across the lunch counter at the Corusca. She could hardly pay the stain any mind, could scarcely think her way past the day's nightmarish events.

Dazed and preoccupied, Leia started up the sidewalk to the shop, heels clicking to the pattern of an uneven heartbeat as she tripped forward, seemingly drunk on her feet. One step, two more. Up the path she went, struggling to find her way through the fog surrounding her thoughts.

She burst into the shop, eyes searching the lobby for him even before the door could close behind her. She was greeted with solemn, gray faces, a mood not at all unlike that of the diner, which she'd purposefully left behind. But no one spoke a word to her, and when she remained similarly silent, the long faces turned back to their radio set in the corner of the room, huddled closely as the same broadcasts continued. Leia searched the enraptured group for him, but he wasn't there.

The drone of the news enveloped the room, each different broadcaster's voice sounding like one. But just outside the lobby, Leia thought she heard sounds more native to the shop, and she followed the beacon of hammering and angry curses until she found Han alone in the garage. Half of him was hidden beneath his own truck, only long legs poking out from beneath the vehicle, a toolbox and a whimpering Chewie at his feet. The big pup whined softly, resting his head atop Han's bent knees. He looked up when Leia approached with big, hopeful eyes, ears perking up as she came to a stop near the truck. He let out a soft _woof,_ turning to his owner as if begging Leia for help.

"Hush, Chewie!" Han gently kicked his leg and Chewie ran off to circle Leia's legs.

"It isn't his fault," Leia admonished softly, without real infliction, reaching down at her side to stroke Chewie's fur, reassure him.

The clinking and clanking from beneath the truck finally stopped and Leia waited until he revealed himself to her, dragging himself out from under the Falcon. When he came out, Han's brow dripped with perspiration, his lip quirked as he panted, squinting in the bright winter sun. He glanced up at her, surveying Leia from foot to head. "Aren't you cold?" he asked.

Those were not the first words she'd been waiting for. That wasn't what she'd come to hear him say and it angered her. Was she cold? _Was she cold?!_ Only then did Leia realize that she'd forgotten her jacket in Mirax's car, but even that realization did nothing to take the edge off her mood.

Leia shook her head. "I'm fine. What about you? I mean to say- how are you?"

He raised a brow at her as he stood, smirking for the briefest second before he brushed past her, leaving her with a kiss on the cheek as he passed. "'M fine, sweetheart."

"Just fine?"

"What are you doing here? Have you had lunch?"

"I'm not hungry," she lied. She wasn't sure she could eat now.

"Hmph," Han made the sound deep in his throat. He crossed the garage to a workbench where he'd left a half-eaten sandwich and he took a generous bite of it before turning back to his work. "You can have some," he offered around a mouth full of bread, turkey, and mayonnaise. "If you want."

Leia shook her head, raising her arms to hug herself. "I … I came to see you."

Han chuckled, lowering himself back under the truck. "So, you didn't come to see Chewie?"

"I wanted to talk to you."

"Talk to me?"

Leia peered around anxiously. Where was the radio? She almost missed its droning. But, for once, the garage was quiet, nearly silent.

"Have you heard the news?" she asked. "Where's that radio? You're always listening to the radio."

"What about the news?" Han muttered, wiping his greasy hands on a damp towel.

"Well, have you heard? About Hawaii?"

Han shrugged. "Sure, I have."

"You have?"

"It was only on every radio station."

"And?"

"And what?"

"Well, don't you care?"

"Sweetheart, we're a long ways from Hawaii."

For a second, she could only look at him. Leia was still too shocked, too dazed to think as quickly and ask him- Wasn't he afraid? Wasn't he worried? The fact was that this wasn't about Hawaii, and everyone knew it. Even as she'd been hit with the tragic news, the various radio personalities announcing updates on Pearl Harbor and Manila, Leia had somehow known, had been able to understand that the implications of the day's events extended far beyond tiny Pacific islands. Like the traveling destructive force of an earthquake,ripples of war radiated from their epicenter, growing, then slamming into a sleeping nation, causing irrevocable change and loss. Leia's greatest fears. "I don't think it matters how far away Hawaii is," her voice nearly trembled as she spoke. "The point is that it's an American territory. American soil. Han, we've been attacked. This almost certainly means war."

"The whole world is at war, sweetheart. It was just a matter of time-"

"I don't think you understand-"

"Their problems, our problems. Took long enough for us to get pulled into the mess. I'm surprised it took so long."

"What about _you?"_

He stared at her. "What about me?"

"What if you get sent off? What if you have to leave?"

Han merely shrugged, quickly turning away and back to his project.

"That's it? You don't have anything to say about it?"

"What do you want me to say, Leia? If Uncle Sam calls, I promise I'll kindly show him the door and stay right here!"

"You know that's not what I mean. If we could just talk about this, Han-"

"What do you want to talk about, Leia? There's a good chance it's gonna' happen."

Leia frowned, suddenly feeling very dejected. "Why are you yelling? I'm not mad; I'm just trying to talk to you. I'm not mad, so why are you?"

"'M not mad."

"It's hard to believe that when you're yelling."

Before Han could even gather words to defend himself, however, Chewie gave another whimper. This time, it was longer and harsher, sadder. Slowly, he sauntered up to Han, rubbing his great head against Han's leg. He continued to whimper until it became a cry, a plea to Han for _something._

Leia was sure she'd never seen a creature so distraught before; wide, dark, mournful eyes caught hers, glistening with heavy tears. He continued to cry, a high-pitched whine emanating from deep in the pup's throat. He nudged at Han with his nose, still flicking his head back to Leia, begging-

Leia asked Han, "Why are you ignoring it?"

"Do we have to just sit in it all day?"

Leia caught a glimpse of a flicker of movement. At his side, Han moved his hand, his large palm settling over a piece of stationary- covering it as though to hide it from her view. She stared at it, wondering what on Earth Han would possibly be hiding. Trust. She wanted to trust him. She wanted to believe that he would never keep a thing from her. He wanted to be with her, didn't he? Just as much as she wanted to be with him. And that meant that he trusted her, right?

Before another unstated promise could flicker across her mind, Leia threw herself over his arm and snatched the paper from beneath his hand. As her fingers touched down on the light material, Han pressed his hand firmly against the sheet and a piece of the corner tore when Leia took it into her hands-

And her heart fell to the floor, shattering into a million tiny pieces.

"What is this for?" She stammered, a great cry of despair stuck somewhere in the back of her throat, or lodged deep in her chest. She held the sturdy paper with both hands, staring at it as if in the hopes that her vision was blurred and she'd be seeing correctly in just a moment- and this would all- _disappear_ before it even was. "What do you have this for?"

"Leia-" Han interjected, but Leia shook her head. No, not 'Leia'. 'Leia' meant that he was serious, that everything happening right now, everything in the area, everything about this single moment- was as real as the pain slowly eating at her. She wanted him to smirk and call her 'princess', reach for her hip and call her 'sweetheart'. She just wanted him to take the sheet from her, laugh, and assure her that none of it was real, that she wasn't holding a recruitment form for the military in her hands.

"What is this?" She repeated, thrusting the paper in his face. "Why do you have this?"

Han braved himself against the counter, daring to meet Leia's gaze. "You said it first," he responded. "I guess I agree with you. We can't ignore it."

"So, you're going to sign yourself up to get killed?"

"Leia, be reasonable. Don't think I went into this without thinking."

"Oh! So you have thought about this. For a while? Before today? Why didn't you bother to warn me that you'd be leaving at the first sign of trouble? You said you would stay!"

"They're gonna' need men, Leia."

"No! _I_ need you, Han! I need you right here!"

"You know what's gonna' happen soon enough, Leia? We'll be in the war, too, and they'll be calling numbers faster than anyone else can count. And I'll be gone eventually."

"Then, why sign up? Why volunteer to be the first to die?"

"I've never had a purpose, Leia. I've never done anything with a purpose beyond my own selfish needs. I've thought about enlisting before. Before I came here, before I even met you. I wanted to do something, pick a side, be a part of a cause, something that will be every bit worth it in the end. I want to do something that matters. And I want it to be on my own free will."

But Leia's gaze was just as bold, even fiercer as her irises came alight with flames. "So, you are going to leave."

Han's surprise flashed across his face quickly, disappearing as fast as it had hit. He shut his mouth and, instead, reached for her, reaching out to caress her face.

Harshly, Leia slapped his hand away.

"I don't want to leave you."

She shook her head and backed away, looking ill as she stared back at Han Solo. "Shut up. Just… don't talk to me."

"Leia-" he groaned.

With a snap, she jerked free of his grasp, jaw suddenly trembling. "You said you would stay."

"I'll come back to you."

"You shouldn't be leaving at all."

A slight frown crinkling his brow, Han leaned towards her. "If you got the chance- to do something that would finally feel right to you- would you hold yourself back?"

"Yes, if it took me away from you."

"But I'll come back."

"In a casket with a flag draped over it. And when they look for your family and see that I'm the only one here for you, they'll leave your cold body at my doorstep. "

Han reached to kiss her temple, but she grimaced and he retreated. "I'll be counting the days before I get to hold you again. And I hope you'll forgive me before I go."

* * *

Winter was growing colder. The colorful trees of fall were already dead, their autumn leaves buried beneath growing mounds of snow. Now, the streets were blanketed in a thin layer of white, glistening in the moonlight which ended each day earlier than the last.

The frosty wind nipped at Leia's cheeks and nose, blowing her black skirt around her legs. She hugged herself tightly, hurrying up the sidewalk to the front door of her family's home.

"Lelila!" her mother cried upon her entry. "Where have you been all afternoon? Papá and I have been worried sick!"

She waited for an answer as Leia stormed in, and it grew quiet enough that she could hear the radio droning on in the living room. She hummed to herself, ignoring the rambling of the news broadcaster.

"Lelila?"

Up the stairs, locked away in her bedroom. She fell onto her mattress, too defeated to stand.

Another voice, now subdued with sadness, regret, fear. She'd left the radio on again.

"Lelila!"

" _President Roosevelt is expected to address the nation early tomorrow."_

Her little radio sat atop her dresser. The little Firestone Air Chief. It droned on. No music, no concerts or symphonies; it was driving her mad.

"Lelila!"

Leia walked over to her dresser, eyeing the little radio set carefully. She took it into her hands, disconnecting it from the wall, and she carried it with her across the room, cradled it in one arm as her fingers fumbled with the latch on her window.

"Lelila!"

The window finally slid free, bursting open with a gust of frosty wind. Leia closed her eyes against the cold, dry air, stretching her arms out the window-

And the Firestone died in a bank of snow.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

 **Author's Note:** Hello, again! Before we kick off this chapter, I would like to make a note that I'm trying to fix some details to this story, so I apologize in advance for continuity errors, or a general mess. Please bear with me.

I should also add that all the radio broadcasts from the last chapter as well as this one are not mine. I copied them from recordings from the week of December 7, 1941 on YouTube.

Now, please enjoy!

* * *

 **Monday, December 8, 1941**

Leia woke up barefoot. That wasn't in any way an oddity, aside from the fact that she was fairly certain she had gone to bed wearing her brown leather heels. She'd collapsed onto her mattress with her topaz-like earrings still dangling from her lobes, forgotten without a care.

With heart in shreds and face a mess, she'd fallen into bed, too distraught to get back up. It was just like that she had fallen asleep, still fully dressed and wrapped in her jacket. But now she lay pleasantly beneath her comforter, toes meeting the cotton bed sheets. Leia slowly opened her eyes to the morning light, and, turning over, she could see that her coat was draped neatly over her vanity.

She stretched against her old spring mattress, pressing her palms over her eyes and yawning helplessly. The previous day's events came back to her in a flood, each painful hour its own separate memory. _Nobody is safe. War is coming. Han is leaving_. For a moment, Leia had the fleeting impression of feeling utterly alone, but she quickly shook it off. Han was just one person in her life, she tried to tell herself, but there were so many things wrong with that idea. Even if she was not truly alone without Han, surrounded by familiar and loving faces of friends and family alike, he was- something else. He was more than just a presence in Leia's life, more than a placeholder. Han was someone she wanted beside her, a source of comfort, _and more than a friend_. He was everything she didn't need, but so very much desired. Having Han at her side was distinct from the places her parents and friends held in her life, a significant figure that she'd cut out a place for. And when he left, she dreaded the ache he would leave behind.

It was pure habit that, upon pulling herself out of bed, feet touching the scratchy carpet, Leia inhaled deeply, nose searching for hints of breakfast. To her dismay, she did not detect the savory aroma of bacon on a pan or sweet maple and pancakes. The air was vacant, empty.

Leia wrapped herself in a robe, hugging herself as she took each step downstairs slowly. One. Two. Three. Four. She had always thought it was a short staircase, with little to no purpose. But she hid there now, stopped at the bottom for a long moment, wishing to be greeted by her parents' warm, smiling faces and every reassurance she desired. But she waited at the end of this staircase for now, hiding behind the wall, feet squished sideways on that single step. Accompanying that hearty breakfast, Leia could always count on arriving in the kitchen to delicate jazz melodies emanating from their radio, helping her shake off the last vestiges of sleep. Today, however, she already felt very much awake, and instead of the rich tones of Miller's trombone, the radio cackled in static with a news broadcast. Her stomach churning with nausea, she was about to return upstairs when her mother caught sight of her. She didn't smile or greet Leia with a proclaimed happy morning. Breha's lips were drawn tight, posed as if to fake a smile, but she couldn't manage even that much. But Leia longed for the lie, not this blunt look of hopelessness, a surrender to a truth she couldn't accept. _This is the end. But this is only the beginning- of the end._

Reluctantly, her feet almost too heavy to carry, Leia joined her parents in the kitchen where her father sat at the table, his head bowed over a plain bowl of cereal. The radio sat in front of him against the wall, droning on with paraphrased broadcasts, the same news recycled. Breha circled the table with the milk pitcher, setting it in Leia's place. "There's toast or cereal," she spoke tersely, quickly, quietly, hurrying back to her own seat. "The spoons should all be washed." Then, her attention was back to the radio and she reached across the table to raise the volume.

"I think I'll just have toast." Leia watched her mother for a reaction. "I don't have much time before I need to leave." That- word- had such a harsh sound to it now. _No. Don't leave. Don't leave me, please. I don't want to be by myself again._

"No worry, dear." Breha waved a hand, eyes still glued to the radio on the table. "Mr. Bailey called. The library will stay closed today."

"Closed? But it isn't Sunday."

" _Hush_ , now, mija," she scorned, commanded in such a tone that she never used with her daughter. Her brows arched tensely, with no veneer to cover her impatience. "Quiero escuchar."

"Sí." Leia lost all the volume to her voice, alarmed in light of her mother's clear agitation. "Lo siento, Mamá."

If the dining room wasn't so dead, Leia might have missed her father mutter, "Es un día de luto."

The radio crackled with static while radio voices switched, and a pregnant silence encompassed the room. Dropping her gaze to her lap, grimacing, Leia thought she could only agree. _That's right. That's right, isn't it? It's a day of mourning, a day of tears to follow such a day of death._

She took her usual seat at the table, nursing a mug of lukewarm coffee along with her dry toast. Leia reached across the table for the butter, warily eyeing her mother who would no longer spare her a glance. Breha Organa's gaze had grown hard suddenly, the corners crinkling with crow's feet, and her lips were drawn into a tight, thin line. Such agitation Leia saw swimming in her eyes, dulling her mother's usual fire. It worried her, but Breha's discomposure was startling enough to hold Leia off at arm's length.

Bail caught his wife's eye in silent warning before she sighed and quickly left the table to wash the plates. He sighed to himself, watching the radio grimly as he leaned forward to hear.

 _"Senators and representatives, I have the distinguished honor of presenting the president of the United States."_

The radio crackled with the sound of applause, and with it came a sinking feeling, a sensation of knowing, and her heart fell before President Roosevelt's first words came.

 _"Mr. Vice President, Mr. Speaker, members of the senate, and of the House of Representatives: Yesterday, December 7th, 1941, a date which will live on in infamy- the United States of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked by naval and air forces of the Empire of Japan."_

Leia startled in her seat at the sound of a sudden crash. On the floor of the kitchen, scattered at her mother's feet were the remaining shards of her father's plate. Breha muttered something under her breath, words that Leia couldn't make out, but could only guess by the way she spat every silent word and balled her hands into tight fists. Bail's chair scraped against the floor, but Breha shook her head. "No, no. Voy a limpiarlo. No te preocupes por eso."

"Breha-"

"¡Dije que no!"

With little more than a weary sigh, Bail easily surrendered to his wife's frustration and turned back to the bowl before him.

All of it was so wrong, the way her parents were stepping around each other, going out of their way to avoid the other. At least, her mother was, and it felt like a hard pill to swallow as Leia watched her mother parade about the kitchen, clearly searching for a distraction.

Come to think of it … Leia didn't think that sounded like such an awful idea for herself.

She swallowed a piece of toast on a dry throat, washed it down with coffee, and swept up her coat from the hanger at the door. "I'm going out. For a walk. I'll be back home in a little while."

Breha cautioned her daughter. "It's chilly out."

Bail offered a soft, reassuring smile. "Don't stay outside for too long."

Leia returned the sentiment, leaning over his chair to kiss his stubbled cheek. "I won't, Papá. Te amo." Then, she repeated the gesture for her mother before hurrying out the door and dropping the pretense of positivity.

* * *

It was noon on a Monday, and the sign on the door read 'CLOSED'. Leia jiggled the handle of the diner's porch-like door and frowned when it didn't open. She thought she caught a flicker of movement from inside, and she pressed her forehead against the screen. She could see Mr. and Mrs. Darklighter sitting together, hands clasped across the table. Wes and the other diner boys- Jek, Tycho, Dak, and young Gavin stood in front of the counter, gazes stuck on the floor. Mirax was inside too, standing at the end of the counter, hands folded, head bowed, elbows braced against the surface for support. Lastly, there were Wedge and Iella, Wedge propped haphazardly atop another table with Iella in a chair at his side. Her hand lay in his lap, massaging his until her attention was drawn to Leia outside, and she drew upright in her seat. Mirax drew herself up off the front counter, saw Leia, and she hurried to open the door.

Mirax looked as Leia felt; with eyes rimmed in red, swollen and wet from crying, Leia sympathized with her dear friend. Mirax took her into a quick hug, resting her chin on Leia's shoulder. "You're here," she said as if somewhat relieved.

"Mirax. What's going on?" She looked behind her at the door. "Why is the diner clo-?"

"Shh. Come sit with us." She dragged Leia to a table across from Wedge and Iella, pulling seats off the tabletop for them to sit on. Iella settled back into her seat and rested her head against Wedge's thigh, remaining silent.

The Darklighters stood from their seats, Mrs. Darklighter on quivering legs. Her husband began to guide her away, waving to the younger adults. "You kids, have anything you want from the freezer. Just be sure to keep the door closed."

"Of course, boss," Wedge managed to say, but couldn't look at the older man.

The group waited until they were gone before Wedge slid off the edge of his table, Mirax drew her elbow back into her lap, and the young men at the counter at least looked up. Iella caught Leia's eye. "You heard the news, didn't you?"

Leia answered with a small nod. "It was impossible to miss. It's all the radio stations are talking about. Even if there is no new information."

Iella nodded. They're still counting the dead." She choked on the last word, fresh tears welling in her eyes.

"They're saying it's over two thousand," Mirax mumbled in disbelief. "Two thousand families with one less son …"

The diner was silent for a long moment, gazes refusing to meet across the small room. Leia waited.

"Biggs went to Hawaii after he enlisted," Wedge finally explained. "He wasn't supposed to go telling anyone, but he told me. He said they were sending him to a naval base they got down there."

Saving Wedge the pain of being the one to say it, Leia connected the dots aloud. "Biggs was at Pearl Harbor."

Wedge hung his head and Iella quickly stood with him, running a hand over his neck. She looked at Leia and nodded.

Leia glanced to young Gavin who stood alongside Wes and the others as if he was just one of the men. His dark eyes were filled with such a sorrow that Leia didn't think fair for a boy to know. They teased him endlessly, Wedge and Wes and the others did. They needled him for being the youngest of their group of friends, for hanging out with his big brother's friends. But looking at Gavin Darklighter now, Leia knew that they wouldn't be able to tease him about being so young anymore. He was still 16, still scrawny and lanky, but he'd aged. In one fiery instant, he'd lost his hero and become his parents' only legacy.

Leia longed to reach out and comfort him, to offer some kind words of sympathy, and she did so as gently she could, swallowing over thich throat before managing a simple, "I'm so sorry Gavin."

"We're closing the diner," Wedge abruptly announced. "As you can imagine, Mr. and Mrs. Darklighter aren't up to managing right now-"

"Couldn't you manage the diner for the time being?" Leia asked. "You've been working for them since … long before Biggs left." The words came out in a great rush. Her suggestion was born of desperation and Leia knew it before the words rolled off her lips. There was something else, more bothering Wedge that he would allow, more than he was ready to say. Some incredible pain seemed to be on the tip of his tongue- of everyone's- but no one was ready to say it.

"We're leaving," Wedge finally managed. Iella winced, reaching to grab his arm- as if to keep him next to her.

"You and who else?" Leia's mind refused to make sense of the sudden onslaught. "Why?"

But she knew.

"We're going to enlist." Tycho was the one to announce, breaking away from the counter to approach Wedge and squeeze his shoulder. "Biggs's sacrifice won't be forgotten. He loved his home, his nation. He died for it." Tycho's blue eyes grew darker than Leia had ever seen them. He cast a weary look toward his companions who joined him and Wedge around the table. Hesitantly, Iella withdrew from Wedge and walked over to Mirax, placing a comforting hand on her friend's shoulder.

"You're _all_ leaving?"

None of the men had more of a reply for Leia than a remorseful look and a small shrug. That was, until Wes spoke, solemn, "It was one thing to hear the news about what happened, what they did to our base. It was another to realize what happened to Biggs."

"Less than an hour ago, it was on the radio," Wedge added. "This means war. Soon enough, we'll be fighting alongside France and Great Britain."

Rolling her eyes, Mirax mumbled, "Don't forget the Soviets."

Wedge, seemingly exhausted, rubbed at his forehead. "Turn up the radio, Gavin!"

"How could you bear to listen to the news right now?" Iella suddenly burst. She threw out an arm and caught Wedge's before he could walk away. "You've had the radio playing nonstop since yesterday morning. Aren't you getting sick of it? Don't you think Gavin's heard it enough! Haven't all of us?"

"I'm right here!"

"Someone, shut the radio off. Please. I don't think I can listen anymore."

Tycho passed the young Gavin and squeezed his shoulder, continuing towards the counter where the radio sat. "Leia, did you listen to the President's address?"

"Everyone heard the president's address-!"

Tycho turned the radio up. _"In view of Minister Churchill's recent pledge that a British declaration of war on Japan would follow almost immediately upon the outbreak of war between Japan and the United States, a British announcement is expected soon."_

Wedge gently freed himself from Iella's desperate grasp, paced his way to the counter and fell heavily into one of the high stools. Biting the inside of her cheek, Iella joined her two best friends. "It's a good thing they're all going. If Wedge wants to, he should." She stretched her arms in her lap and tried to silence her own sigh. "But it doesn't make the news any easier. It's all such a nightmare. I don't want to hear about it anymore. Or, is that just me?"

"It's hard on all of us," Mirax agreed. To Iella, it was a reassurement, but Leia took it as a lesson- perhaps, what she needed to hear.

"Everyone is afraid," Leia agreed. "He's just trying to make sense of it. Just like everyone else." Just like Han was. But this was more than personal exploration and glory-seeking, more than vendettas and seeking revenge. This was more than the lives of close loved ones already lost, but a glimpse of what was to come.

Mirax nodded. "And it's only just started. It's going to take a lot of blood to settle this war."

Something changed in Iella's demeanor at that moment. Her eyes hardened like steel, cold and determined. She took one of Leia's and Mirax's hands and leaned toward her friends. "Yes. Lots. But who said it all has to be ours?" She stood up quickly and turned to look Mirax dead in the eye. "You said you would come with me if I went."

"Went where?" Leia found herself asking, though she realized she knew the answer to this one too.

The smile she offered in response was small, fragile. Fearful. But Iella pulled Mirax to her side, linked their arms, and said proudly, "They're going to need nurses."

"I suppose they will. They'll need everyone they can get."

As if on cue, Leia startled when someone pounded on the door of the diner. Leia craned her neck and nearly gaped from mere surprise to see Han there. Normally, Leia would laugh and tease him endlessly upon seeing Han bundled in a thick coat, arms wrapped tightly about himself, shivering with cold. There was no mood to joke, however, and once Han caught sight of her inside the diner, seated at the table by herself, she struggled to even look at him. Not because she was mad, but simply because it hurt.

Leia wasn't sure who let Han in because she was already turned away, back to the door- to Han.

"Hey," she heard his voice behind her. "Sorry if I'm bothering. I was lookin' for Leia."

 _Leia_. When Han said her name, it meant something.

She could feel his gaze upon her, gentle and cautious. _Soft. He's so soft, and nobody else knows. He's so soft, and he didn't deserve this._

But it was all so much in that moment. Leia had never struggled with change, but this was-

 _All the people I love are leaving._

She so desperately wanted a break from the nightmare, a spare moment to collect her thoughts, but the world was caving in and Han was right there, ready to catch her.

 _I don't want you to catch me, Solo. I want you to just stay._

She knew he was right behind her, approaching hesitantly. "Just …" Leia muttered too quietly. "Just give me a moment."

"Leia-"

"Just …" _Don't go._

* * *

Han caught up to her eventually, after pausing to catch his breath. Surveying his surroundings, he realized that he had no idea where he was. In front of him was a one-room schoolhouse, complete with a rusty bell hanging overhead. But beside the building was a small playground with a shiny metal slide, a seesaw, and a pair of swings with black seats, only one of which was stationary.

Upon the other, he spotted a figure swinging high and low, extending her legs forward as she rose, then abruptly sitting up and swinging back, hair flying wildly before her. Her features were calmer than she'd appeared in hours, no frown or smile betraying her lips. She flew with the wind, eyes closed to the world. Han longed to just watch her for a moment longer.

Han took the empty seat beside her and turned sideways in the swing while he waited for her to acknowledge him. When she didn't, he stuck a boot-covered toe in the snowy wood chips and kicked off. From the corner of his eye, Han saw Leia open her own and finally turn to face him. Her eyes were soft, yet dangerous, and it took all of his strength not to drown in hazelnut depths.

But she didn't speak to him. Leia merely glanced his way as he gained momentum and had his swing flying just as high as hers. Their pace soon matched, and their feet rose to touch the dawning of daylight at the same moment, seats then rearing back in unison. Leia quickly took notice- and she hit a sudden stop, pitting her heels in the thick snow.

"Now you stop."

"What?"

"What did you stop for?"

"Our swings were matching. In school, the kids would say that if two kids' swings matched, they were married."

"Why would they say that?"

She shrugged, turning her face away. "It was just something they said." Distractedly, she closed her eyes, dropping her chin, and twisted her seat around until the chains groaned in utter protest and fought to free themselves. Leia finally let them have their way and went spinning around in the other direction.

Han sighed, dropping his feet and letting his heels drag in the chips until he came to a stop. "Leia, could you please stop that so we can talk? I can hardly hear you."

She closed her eyes again, turning her face up to the sky. But she stopped.

"This was my elementary school," she said. "Back when I was little. With the same playground equipment and everything. I enjoyed recess just like every other child did, but my favorite part was always these swings."

"Somehow," Han tried to smile, "that doesn't surprise me."

Leia smiled gently back. "I used to get teased constantly by the other kids. They'd say I was no fun, that I was a bore because I preferred to just sit here and swing than play tag with them or join their game of baseball in the field. But this was my thinking spot. I always did my best thinking on swings. I would just sit here, let the breeze blow over my face, let go of all my worries, and I'd daydream all the most wonderful things. I'd daydream my own stories, my own future. Papá used to take me to parks all the time when I was younger. He said he loved to watch me think." She laughed softly. "He said that he could see all the beautiful, bold ideas zipping around in my head. He was the one who told me that I did all my best thinking here."

"So you came here- to think."

She dropped her eyes to her lap for a moment before she returned his gaze. "I'm sorry for the way I reacted yesterday. I wasn't thinking rationally."

"Rationally?"

"I wasn't in my right mind. When I heard the news- on the radio- it was too much. Too much to cope with at once. It- it scared me, Han. It scares me when I don't know what's going to happen."

He swallowed. "I know. It scares me too."

"But you still want to go out there?"

"I slept on it and you aren't changing' my mind, sweetheart."

"I know. And I'm not going to try to anymore. That doesn't change how I feel about it, though. If this is something you want to do …"

Han got up from his seat, raised an arm above his head and rested it against the support bar at Leia's side. "When I first saw you, on the road to Aldera back in the fall- I saw this longing in you, this desire. I saw it in your eyes. You're starving for something new, something that you aren't gonna' find here. You know what I mean. You know that feeling, like you know there's something waiting for you, but it isn't here."

"And yours is …?"

"I know I'm getting closer to it."

"You want to be some kind of Captain America? Do you read-?"

"Yeah, I know what you're talking about, princess. I don't know; I didn't- Yeah, I wanna' be kriffin' Steve Rogers, sweetheart."

The comment won a genuine, brilliant smile from Leia, and she reached for the closest part of him she could touch to pull him closer. "I think you'd make a great soldier."

He swept a loose lock of hair past her forehead, then brought his thumb over her jawline. "You think?"

"Or a pilot."

"A pilot? Now you're just talking foolishness."

"Captain Han Solo of the United States Army and Air Force."

"I don't know about that, sweetheart."

With a finger in the loop of his belt, she pulled him closer. " _Captain_."

"You know, I think I like the sound of that."

She took in one breath, and his heavy scent filled her awareness. His usual greasy smell was there, albeit dulled with a fresh, woodsy fragrance that reminded Leia of the shore of Lake Aldera where dozens of sugar maple trees stood guard. Han smelled like home. "I bet you do," she agreed softly.

 _Home._ The smell of the home she loved on the man she-

It hit her like a wave, crashing down on her before it threatened to drown her. Her head fell, forehead resting on his chest. "You're one good thing," she murmured. "I don't want to lose you."

"I hear you, sweetheart."

Always with ' _sweetheart_ '. Leia could have smiled if she hadn't caught the difference in his voice, the way his tone grew softer and lower that last time. _I hear you_ , because he didn't know what else to say. _Sweetheart_ , because now he was just as serious as she was.

"I don't want to lose you. Not now. Not when I never thought I'd find …" She sighed, grabbing for his shirt and balling the material in her fists. "Every child grows up with fairy tales, and you know they aren't real. But you believe in the endings. I did. For a long time, I thought that if I just did everything right, I'd be able to get mine, get all the happiness out of life that I could. Then, I got older and I started to think that wasn't the case, that everyone's ending is a game of chance and you just get whatever card was handed to you. Just when I lost faith, Han, then you came. You understood. From that first moment, you saw right through me, and it still terrifies me, but in the most wonderful way. I don't know how you do it, but I can't lose that. Not now that you're here."

Suddenly, Leia shoved her fists against his chest and he rocked on his feet in surprise. When he met her gaze again, however, she was smiling. "You bring out the worst in me."

He chuckled. "Sorry, sweetheart. Haven't got time for anything else."

She looked up, holding him close. Happily, Han obeyed.

"I want you to go," Leia added. "I really mean that. I think you should go. They'll need you. It just might kill me to watch you leave, but I want you to go. If this is something you feel like you should do."

He nodded. "I do."

She squinted in the sunlight, pulling him closer. "They need you more than I do."

Gingerly, Han brushed two fingers beneath Leia's chin, tipping her face up toward his own. "You know, I'm not leavin' you right now or even tomorrow."

"You better not be." With one hand, she held the chain of the swing tighter, her other hand reaching for Han's neck. "I think I need a kiss or two before I can say good-"

Before the last syllable of the word could roll off Leia's tongue, Han's mouth touched down on hers and she was immediately drawn into an ardent dance. She was desperate and impassioned , but he flooded her senses with all the sweetness of a bright, new day. Fervently and hungrily, he pushed on further, pulling her closer until she was off the swing and in his arms.

On December 8th, 1941, in chilly, snowy northern Minnesota, Leia's cheeks flooded with warmth.


	13. Chapter 13

If you're reading this, thank you for bearing with me.

* * *

December 24th arrived without cheer, and more like a call for mercy. If anyone could release their breath upon the arrival of the blessed holiday, it came out stale. Even such a joyous holiday could not take away the anxiety clouding the atmosphere. Christmas wasn't supposed to feel like this. It was supposed to be a winter wonderland of joy and merry wishes for a bright new year. Not this- suffocating in lamentation and praying the pain would just be over like ripping off a bandage. Why did it have to go on stinging? And he wasn't even gone yet.

Leia Organa glanced at the calendar set out on her nightstand. By now, it was covered in red and black pen, markings counting down the days until the end of the month. Six days- hardly a week- remained until the first of January, when a new year would come and Han would be gone.

She wiped the sleep from her eyes, tossing over in bed and forcing herself to throw the covers aside. It was early in the morning and winter kept the moon drawn out longer, but Leia peered between her curtains and could see flakes of snow glittering the dark sky and descending upon her world. Most folks in her area grumbled when the skies began to turn just the right shade of gray for snow, and they grumbled, even more, when it finally came. Snow meant work to clear the paved ways, dirty and slushy sidewalks, dark salts peppering the roads, a gross combination of the substances coating the soles of boots. As for Leia, she'd always held a certain fascination with the glittery, iridescent flakes when they were fresh and came steadily like rain. She was as much a fan of yellow snow as the next person, but the beauty of December and of the winter wonderland Aldera became was a wonder unto itself, a familiar and welcoming sight she treasured each year. Genuinely, she smiled at the sight now, taking comfort in it.

She'd already set her clothes out the night before and they were waiting for her on the chair by her small vanity. Neatly folded there was a green and white sweater with a drab, gray skirt and her off-white heels. Leia put on a camisole, tucked it into her skirt, then slipped on her woolen sweater- careful not to disrupt the meticulous pin curls she'd set in the night before- and crept downstairs.

The kitchen counter was already littered in pounds of sugar and flour and canned goods which she'd set out the night before. There were potatoes to prepare, pies and cookies to make- and she would have to make the green bean casserole so it would be ready to heat up the next morning. There was plenty of work to be done, and that sounded like the best kind of distraction to Leia.

As hard as she tried to distract herself, to make herself forget, she couldn't make this Christmas feel like all the joyous ones she'd spent with her parents in front of the fireplace, dressed in pajamas all day, snacking on Mrs. Jorgensen's spritz cookies instead of any proper meal. If all went to plan, Leia would be spending the holidays very much the same with the same feast tonight and cinnamon rolls in the morning and too many cookies to finish enjoying before mid-January. But this- this hollow day of despair was little more than a reminder of the ticking clock hanging just overhead.

One week. One week left of the dream. Was she to savor every kiss or spare herself more heartache and forget the past few months?

When she noticed that the thoughts of remorse were returning, she flicked on the radio and started humming along under her breath.

In between mashing the potatoes in the bowl before her, Leia swept the window curtain aside to glance out into the street; the snowfall was picking up, and she could only watch in wonder for a moment, singing along with the radio another old Christmas hymn. "Above thy deep and dreamless sleep," she crooned, "the silent stars go by."

"Practicing for your big performance today?"

Leia startled at the sound of her mother's voice, but quickly relaxed and adapted an easy smile. "Just- singing with the radio."

"Well, you sound wonderful." Breha stepped up from behind Leia to give her a hug. "I can't wait to hear the whole show later."

"You've heard me sing that song at least a hundred times since I was small."

"And yet, I can't get enough of it." The mother caressed her daughter's cheek, trailing her fingers down to her chin, then letting go as she remembered how she was no longer so small. "I've always loved that sweet voice of yours. Ever since you discovered that little, hidden talent of yours, I've been asking myself, 'My word! Is there anything she can't do?'"

"And what's the verdict?"

"Absolutely not. You blow me and Papá away with everything you're capable of. Every day, we think about how proud you make us. You are a far greater blessing than we could have asked for."

Leia blinked, and the distraction was over. She remembered. All the pain of the month returned, and she had to look away before she could say things she didn't mean.

"Hey," Breha spoke gently, reaching for her chin again, but Leia quickly stepped just out of reach. "You shouldn't be mad at him. It may not make sense, but he's doing this for you. For both of us, but especially you."

"You say that like you support this."

Breha's lips formed a tight, thin line, and she hesitated before responding. "You know that I- don't like this either. However, I understand it. You don't have to like it, Lelila, but please just support your father. You may never understand it, but he's doing this for you."

Leia didn't even open her mouth so she couldn't respond. Her father had explained this the night he'd made his announcement- a whole speech that Leia had hardly paid any mind as she struggled to process what he'd told her. He was going. He was leaving, too. Wedge, Wes and the other guys, Mirax and Iella, Han.  
 _Papá._

There had been an elderly man who lived a few hours from Aldera on a farm that had been in his family for generations since they'd come to America. He'd hired Bail Organa on as a farm hand, and he'd worked long weeks in the fall. For weeks, Bail would be away from home, and he would finally come back late in the night. Leia remembered spending those nights curled up on the living room couch in her mother's lap, fighting to keep her eyes open while she waited for Papá. Breha would let her fall asleep in her arms and gently nudge her back awake when a soft knock on the front door would announce his return. Suddenly wide awake and alert, Leia would launch herself into her father's embrace. "Papá!" she would cry into his shoulder, _relieved._ "Why did you have to be gone so long?"

"Oh, Lelila," he'd moan and kiss her little braids. "You know I hate leaving you and Mamá. I always think about you when I am gone. But I need to work so Mamá and I can feed you and buy your clothes and toys."  
Leia almost smiled even if just to herself as she remembered the usual response she would give as she tightened her grip around her father's neck, saying, "I don't want any more toys." Then, Bail would share a chuckle with Breha, and hug his daughter tighter back.  
 _It should be my turn,_ Leia thought now. _When can I start paying you and Papá back for everything you've given me?  
_ Whatever debt her parents seemed to think they owed this nation, Leia didn't understand why it had to come to this. What had this blasted nation done for Bail and Breha Organa that either of them owed their servitude? Or worse, their lives?  
"It's not his responsibility to go," Leia muttered.  
"It is every citizen's responsibility and no one's. What shall become of us all if no one goes?" Gently, Breha nudged her elbow. "Now, hand me one of those so I can help."  
Stubbornly, Leia shook her head. "No. You ought to get ready for the day. I can handle this."

* * *

As seemed to be the pattern, Han was greeted at the doorstep of the Organa home by the scent of something cooking. Assorted scents filled his awareness- cinnamon, peppermint, honeyed ham. Smiling to himself, Han knocked on the side of the door frame before opening the screen door for himself.  
"Hello?" Cautiously, he stepped inside, but rather than seeing the Organa couple dancing in the kitchen to the mellow Christmas tunes that were playing on the radio, Han found Leia sitting at the table, focused in earnest. Her knuckles were white as she furiously pounded a lump of dough into shape. It wasn't until he was standing directly in front of her- albeit across the table- that Leia looked up to see him there. Immediately, her eyes softened and some of the tension vanished from her shoulders.  
"Han," she said with an exhaled breath that sounded like relief. She dropped her dough ball on the table and hurriedly wiped her hands off on her apron as she stood and ran around the table.  
"Hello, Your Highness-" he grunted, catching Leia when she threw herself into his arms. Her grip around his neck was fierce and desperate. He touched a hand to her back to offer comfort.

"Han," Leia repeated when Han set her back on her feet. "What are you doing here? Why are you even up? It's a holiday!" She smiled, teasingly. "It's permission to stay home and sleep in."

Han shrugged. He pulled out a seat at the table, examining Leia's efforts as he worked up a response. "Christmas Eve. Yeah. Don't you have that performance today? You told me you're gonna' sing some song at church. For the Christmas service."

"Yes, that's today. Then, I'm going to dinner at a neighbor's home with my parents. But I can come over later. It shouldn't be too late-"

"No," Han shook his head. "No, I'm not asking you to come over to see me today. Aw, well, I mean that-"

"Han?"

Han's gaze finally settled on her, a wild and unfulfilled want flashing across his eyes. Leia's eyes were deep- deep oceans so dark and mesmerizing, yet all Han could see was light. He couldn't get lost in her eyes because that was where he found himself. And just like that, her gaze acted as his anchor. "I wanna' come listen to you today. If you're okay with that. I've never heard you sing before."

"Oh?" Leia's surprise was not something Han had to search her expression for but was there, clearly displayed, as she held his gaze with raised brows. "It's not a big deal, Han. It's just a song or two I'll perform for the Christmas service." She took a breath, then quickly added, "At church."

Han nodded. "Sure, but it's important to you, isn't it?"

Her fingers fidgeted nervously as she wondered where this conversation was going. Leia kept herself busy with the task of baking before her, wrapping her hands in gooey, stretchy dough. She'd let trickle a generous amount of droplets of green food coloring into this clump of batter, and she focused her eyes on watching the color spread through the dough as her hands worked their way through. "Yes, I suppose it is."

Han nodded once, sauntering around the table and fidgeting. Then, he grew quiet, his gaze settling on Leia as she worked, just studying her.

Aware of his rapt attention, Leia's gaze flicked towards him, and a smile of amusement flickered across her face. "Han," she spoke softly, but her gaze pinned him down. "May I help you?"

He reacted as if startled out of a deep reverie. His body jumped back into action and Han assured her with an easy grin. "Nah, Princess. I couldn't ask for anything."

Leia shrugged to herself. "Hmph. Maybe I'll be more convinced when you stop staring."

"Staring." He rounded the side of the table, then pulled out a chair and sat close beside her. "To say I'm staring, you must be keeping a steady watch yourself, Your Highnessne-"

Before the last consonant could fall off his tongue, however, Leia halted him right there, seizing his chin to gingerly place a kiss on his lips. Leia could have laughed as she felt him relax, softening under her touch. "Easy, flyboy," she chuckled. "Don't get excited." She allowed him one more, and he hesitated when it ended, muttering, "Tease."

Now, she laughed. A whole-hearted belly laugh escaped her, and she didn't bother to hide it. She stood up from her chair, still grinning at him as she stored away her dough and rinsed her hands over the sink.

"I'm memorizing you," Han allowed. He followed her across the kitchen, hands encircling her waist when he caught up. "I can't forget a single thing."

A cold feeling ran up Leia's spine, an empty feeling swallowing her up. She turned in his arms and sought his gaze. She had some well-structured, thought-out response to give, some comment to make light of the mood. Instead, what came out was anything but light-hearted.

"I don't want to talk about that now."

Leia didn't have to push him back; her words cut through deep enough to put space between the two.

He groaned her name beneath his breath. "I wasn't tryna' start that up right now. Leia, come on."

"Did you know it's actually quite hard _not_ to think about? When someone I care about is leaving, putting their life in the direct line of fire-"

"And you don't think I hate it just as much? Sweetheart, this mighta' been my choice, but it ain't any easier for me." They locked gazes just as Han's declaration was finished. Both mirrored a sense of pain and dread in their eyes, grief too harsh it provoked an almost physical response.

After the longest moment, as words stretched into an abyss of agony, Leia finally spoke. "I don't want to have to imagine any moment as our last," she said.  
"You don't want to enjoy each one as if it might be?"

Hesitantly allowing Han back near her, she let him take her hands, softly shaking her head. "I just want time, Han. I want to have time to relax and let life work itself out. I want to have a relationship with you without worrying, without thinking constantly that we have so little time left. I can't stand the thought that this won't last."

"Leia, I think I'd rather share these moments now and suffer later. It will have been worth it, don't you think?"

She pulled him closer, burrowing her head against his chest. His pulse thundered in her ear, and she treasured it. "I don't know what to think," she whispered as she placed her hand over his heart. "I don't know how to survive this in one piece."

"You can live without me, Lei."

"But I need you. You're supposed to spend the rest of the future with me."

"Oh, yeah, Princess?"

"Unless you have other ideas, Mr. Solo."

"I don't know, sweetheart. I haven't thought that far ahead. I just know you're gonna' be okay." He moved his hands up her waist, over her slender curves, then caressing her shoulders and stretching to reach for her hands. "But for now, Leia, I just want to get everything out of every moment. I need a souvenir to take with me."

Without a second of hesitation, Leia stood on her toes, pulling Han down by his collar. She savored the taste of him, committed to memory the path his right hand would take up her back before getting caught in her hair. Reluctantly, she broke the connection. "Take that with you. Then, come back. No more goodbye kisses ever again."

"Hm. That sounds good. What about now?"

"Now?"

"As in right now."

"What do you want to do right now? I have to leave in- soon."

"I wanna' come listen to you."

Turning away, Leia shook her head to herself. "You sure think you're cute, flyboy."

"You think I'm trying to pull some trick on you?"

"No tricks," she echoed. "I believe you. But I don't think a few kisses are going to fix this, Han."

"Fix-? Leia, I don't know what you're expecting from me. I'm trying really hard here." He caught her by her shoulder, preventing her from taking one more step away from him. Han slid his hand down her arm until her hand was in his, and he gently pulled her back. "I have to go. I am going to leave."

"No," she smiled bitterly. A ferocious _hurt_ shone through her eyes, a dismal pain that swept over her complexion like a shadow, swallowing every of hope he'd tried to instill in her. "Han, no. I can't face this right now."

"You're so much stronger than that; don't feed me that garbage."

"After all that I've surrendered? After all of myself that I've given to you? What if you never come back? Am I supposed to be okay with that?"

"Don't you think you might regret what we didn't do if I don't get back? Leia, we've been through this exact same conversation how many times already? I don't know what to tell you any more.… Thought maybe I could do something important for once. Something that isn't just for me. Don't you want to find that too?"

Leia didn't spare him so much as a look before pushing past, muttering, "I have to get ready."

* * *

Right hand over the left, touching down to stroke the ivory keys so briefly, then lifting back up and dancing down the board to scale the following arpeggio. Music was an art. The elegant choreography her hands performed, their dance, was also an art. The beat resounded in her chest and foot while the rhythm hummed through her head and sounded itself through her fingers. She forced the melody outside of her own body, releasing the sweet tune where it belonged. This practice of dancing fingers and silent voices singing in her head was an art, and art was supposed to be freeing and happy, but some remnant of her pain was still stuck inside her; something was still fighting for its release. A bottle is not meant to be an eternal vessel; even its contents are to be spilled one day. One day. There comes a day for everything, for every floodgate to burst open, every tongue locked away to break its seal. And before you know it, all the words come rushing out like a great flood, a great crescendo before the waves crash along the shore in their final declaration. Something was boiling at the surface, a storm ready to run its course. Now, everyone was just waiting for the final note.

As she finished "Hark! The Herald Angels Sing" on a strong chord, Leia glanced over her music to watch the pews fill- the beginning of the most solemn service Leia would ever see.

She could still see her father and mother where they sat in the very back, whispering to each other and often watching their daughter in pride and admiration. Breha waved and Leia responded with the barest hint of a smile. Before she could make eye contact with her father, Leia turned her attention back to the music before her. They were the same songs she played every year, the same worn-out book she'd gotten from Pastor Carl for Christmas when she was much younger. The pages were covered in marks, quarter notes changed to sixteenth notes and fermatas at the end of every phrase.

Leia turned to a new page and folded the book inside out to keep the crease. She set it back on the ledge of the piano, then set her hands in their starting position. Gently, she struck the first chord of "Noel", and she quickly fell into the embrace of the song, all outer awareness lost. She was in the middle of the song when the next wave of church-goers arrived and she found herself switching her tempo to the steady beat of footsteps. She wore her most fragile smile to greet old friends and neighbors as they took their seats. Maybe, she could convince herself that everything was alright, she considered. If she could just ignore the black hole devouring her, then maybe she would get through this day, week, month.  
She cleared her thoughts and cleansed the palate with the hymn on her next page.

First chord. Hold. Then, slur into the following eighth notes. Sharp! She knew this song by heart, she hardly had to look; but the mental notes had been ingrained in her head. That sharp- she always used to miss it when she was first learning this song. But she'd learned since then, and she loved the extra stretch she had to make to reach the correct black key. Up and back down so quick the challenge was forgotten as soon as it had come. It was nothing to her, nothing to divert her attention or lighten her mood; it wasn't nearly enough to distract herself into feeling happy.

"So, you do have hidden talents, huh, Princess?"

Startled, Leia cut her last half note short and her fingers tripped over the keys and clashed out an awful chord. A piece of sheet music had drifted off the ledge of her stand and she hastily bent over to retrieve it, simultaneously trying to grab hold of her flustered thoughts. "Han?"

Han had hazel eyes. Empathetic and earnest, devoted and ardent, tender and affectionate- Leia could read his entire facial expression in those eyes. All she had to do was look and let herself fall in.

She was seemingly unable to recover from her shock. She tried to regain her peace of mind as she set her music straight again and started on the next song, eyes glancing over the piano as her hands set to work and fell back into rhythm. She whispered, "What are you doing here?"

"You want me to go?" Han Solo didn't just smile, but stretched every angle of his face and threw Leia into a feeling much like that of free-falling except that it felt _good_. So good. But it was no ordinary smile either- Leia wondered if he even had such thing as a normal _smile_ so much as that lopsided grin of his. That couldn't be natural…

"No! No, I'm just trying to understand. I didn't think you really cared about-"

"Hey, I came to watch you." The grin returned. It took all of Leia's will to stay focused. "And you're soundin' pretty great. I didn't know you liked music so much."

She glanced away. "I told you that I like music."

"Yeah. Yeah, that's right. All your Andrews Sisters records."

When Han rolled his eyes, Leia nearly forgot her commitment to the keys, and she was tempted to land a solid shot to his shoulder. As if seeing the humorful fury in her eyes, he grinned. Again. _Solo, would cut that out?_ _You're distracting me!_ That last part she verbalized, only catching herself too late.

"Am I now?" He chuckled, pleased with himself. "Having a hard time focusing?"

"Think you're cute, do you?"

"Well, you seem to be struggling to resist."

"Hush, you. I'm busy."

"Still sounding good to me."

"You know, there's a service that comes after this fancy prelude thing. It'd be scandalous if you didn't leave."

"Where should I sit?"  
"In the back. You're embarrassing me." A smile escaped- she couldn't help herself.

"Yeah, alright, sweetheart. I'll go sit with your parents in the back."

"Thank you."

"If you kiss me first."

"Han!"

He was all chuckles, all smiles, and joy. How could he be, Leia had to wonder as her ebbing pain suddenly returned at the sight of him?

Han bent over to look at her setup, curiously glancing at her sheet music, watching her hands work tirelessly. He seemed to be studying her every movement, gaze taking in all there was to see. Even the movement of her wrists as she drew back from each note couldn't slip past him.

"I thought you were going to sit down."

"You promise you'll join me?"

"Of course. If you ever leave me alone."

"Right. Like that's what you want."

By the time Leia was once again tearing her gaze away to glance in surprise at Han, he was already heading back. She shook her head to clear the butterflies, returning her attention to the music. She took a calming breath, but her awareness filled with a shot of pleasure and she smiled to herself. She couldn't help it. Something was keeping the heartache at bay, and that grin- _that grin_ was stuck in her mind's eye.

* * *

It all looked so great. So joyful were the wreaths and garlands hung across the altar and even the little nativity scene the younger children had set up in the corner. Several men of the congregation had gone out to pick a tree to be kept in the church and their wives had spent half the week decorating it to perfection. The great conifer was laced in shreds of tinsel with a generous helping of shiny blue and red bulbs. Someone had strung together a garland of popcorn and dried cranberries. The whole tree was very pretty. The whole sight was.

Leia was so busy absorbing all this, absorbing the warmth in the room- from the lights, from Han's skin touching hers… He had an arm wrapped around her shoulders, and she'd, at some point into this development, cozied herself in his embrace and rested her head on his chest. Then, he'd pulled her closer. And Breha Organa had chuckled aloud, smirking at her daughter.

The bells rang from their place in the belfry, and the congregation silenced. Once the last ring had cleared, the pastor rose to the pulpit, and everyone waited. "Good morning."

This was easy. The same routine as always.

A subdued echo of the words was murmured across the room.

And then …

Silence.

Pastor Carl seemed to be weighing his words which was enough to set the tone of the coming service. He who always kept such meticulous notes and scrawled passages on the margins of his papers so he might forget nothing he wanted to tell his congregation. He who had just the verse for every aching heart.

He braced himself against his podium, wrinkled knuckles white. "Today's call to worship comes from Psalm 46, verses one through three. 'God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore, we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging.'"

Leia could hear the whispers across the room, from all sides of her.

"But we always read Isaiah or Mark on Christmas Eve."

"I told you we should have gone to Nancy's church in Glyndon!"

"He seems sick, doesn't he?"

"We are gathered in this holy place," he resumed in a stronger voice, ignoring the whispers. "So that we may celebrate the birth of our Christ and praise God for sending his one and only son to us. Ladies and gentlemen, tomorrow will be Christmas. And it's going to be a hard one.

"It's an especially cold winter this year, the roads are especially slick. … The world is overtaken in chaos and war, and many of your sons, husbands, friends will be walking into it within the coming weeks."

The arm across Leia's shoulders tightened its grip there.

"It's chilling to watch the way the world is turning. It's tragic to see what conditions other nations are in. It is not something we were prepared to cope with when the war came for us. Their war, however, is now also our war, and it is essential that we go to war to defend our freedom and our homeland. Over a hundred-sixty years ago, we won the right to our freedom. Within the last several years, we've gotten back on our feet as a nation. We owe our thanks and so much more to the men who will be leaving our small corner of this country to defend our freedom.

"And I know it isn't easy to say goodbye to someone you love. But it's for a cause greater than any one of us that these men are leaving."

Han gently poked Leia on her shoulder, and when she turned to look, he smirked at her. "Listen to this guy. He thinks I care about anybody else here."

Leia felt a flare of amusement and part of it was still there as she punched him in the shoulder and hushed him, but it was gone only seconds later. The dread she'd spent the whole month fighting returned with a vengeance, and she anxiously reached for Han's other hand, seizing it in both of hers. _This isn't about me. This isn't even about us. They're right. He's off for the greater good, off to be the selfless, caring man I know he is._

"If they are offering their lives for their home, then don't we owe them something? Let's say a little prayer for our men and this winter season, then we can celebrate the birth of our Christ together.

"Dear Heavenly Father-"

 _I get it now._

"On this Christmas Eve, when we praise you for sending your son-"

 _Why he has to go._

"We thank you for this day-"

 _And why he wants to go._

"And for the beautiful weather outside, as cold as it is."

 _I would go, too. If it were me …_

"Lord, we thank you for this season and the joy we can find in it-"

 _Shouldn't that make me love him even more?_

"While we endure this harsh and trying time,"

 _Hasn't it already made me love him more?_

"As the world seems to fall apart around us-"

 _I love him even more for wanting to go._

"Please remind us that you are always there, Lord-"

 _And yet, I can't bear it._

"Always guiding us-"

 _I can't fathom losing him if something were to happen out there._

"Always watching over us-"

 _I want to know he'll make it._

"Always there for us to call upon."

 _I want to believe there will be something for us at the end of this._

"Lord, you have a plan."

 _Where it's just us and the future ahead of us._

"Our lives are in your hands."

 _And maybe it won't have to be a question anymore._

"Guide us, show us the way you have mapped out for us-"

 _Just us. And everything I've been looking for._

"As we navigate the road ahead."

 _Because- I-_

"We pray that you lay your hand over these men and protect them as they go out to defend innocent lives across the world. Please bring them back home to their loved ones. We ask for all this in your holy and loving name, Lord. And all God's people said together…"

"I love you!" The words came tumbling from her mouth faster than Leia could process her thoughts, and she faced Han, reaching for him, a steady stream already flowing from the corners of her eyes.

Han's response was in his eyes. They weren't dilated in surprise, but rather reflected the sorrow and simultaneous understanding Leia now felt. He reached for Leia as if to pull her closer, his hand conforming to the curve of her hip. For a moment, their eyes seemed to search each other, hoping to find the answer to the future somewhere there. The space between their bodies closed until their sides were pressed firmly together, and Han drew his hand up her jawline, brushing back stray hairs, gaze still searching desperately. Before lips could meet skin, he answered, "I know."

"And now, we are in for a treat as I believe Miss Organa will perform for us."

She'd almost forgotten, and the moment had snuck up on her. Why _right now_ , when she could hardly think, could hardly remember what day it was or why she was even here. She was aware of just how vulnerable she was in this rare moment, how easily she was sure she could shatter and break at one more word. She knew in the rational part of her mind that she wasn't so weak. She was no piece of fine porcelain, but tempered steel. And yet, he bolstered her, provide her with some kind of, not strength or confidence but _hope_ and ambition that she'd never possessed before- ambition for a future she'd never considered before. With him. She looked back to him once more, hoping for some of that stability now.

A chaste kiss to her hand was all they had time for. Then, she was on her own, leading herself up to the piano beside the pulpit. She took each step with a measured breath, reminding herself that she had to keep going. What even was she doing? She found herself sitting on the piano bench, sheet music before her she knew she recognized, but the notes were all muddled up in her brain and-

Leia forced herself to pause, closed her eyes and took a long breath before she looked at the music again. The tune came to her and she let her fingers rest so lightly against the keys.

 _Lord, you have a plan. Show me how to face it._

One more breath and she was ready. One more breath and she knew she could handle the weight that had been threatening to pull her down.

She couldn't be mad at him. Suddenly, she couldn't fathom being angry with Han. It was the words for how much she would miss him that she knew she would never find.

Leia found her place in the music slowly. The piece opened with a major chord, and she dragged it out, putting space between the chords that only personified the heaviness enveloping the room. She went into the first verse with a heavy downbeat, allowing the first notes to drag. Biding her time. Finding her voice. She was no longer seeing red, but all the emotion she'd locked away, refused to show was yanking on the floodgates and there was no fighting now. She repeated the opening chords, but added an extra note and broke down right there, the tears too thick in her throat. She swore she could sense her parents' concern from across the room.

No, she was stronger than that. All this hurt and pain was merely human to feel, and to hold it in- that was what hurt the most. To let it go, at least she would be able to breathe, to go on.

 _Lord, please keep him safe. Bring him back to me. I love him. I love him so much this hurts._

She started on the chords again, timing her breaths to the four-four signature. Then, it was the same melody she'd been singing to herself all week, and the rest came naturally, however painfully. "O come, O come, Emma-a-a-nuel. And ransom captive I-i-israel."

She forced herself to look upon the congregation, her eyes still misted over with tears. Immediately, she sought out Han and found him where he was in the back. He sat with an arm laid out across the back of the pew, his gaze set firmly on her, eyes filled with love and adoration. And the echo of his promise. _I know._

As harshly as it stung to lock gazes with him, to keep staring and only see the same pain she felt reflected back, Leia couldn't look away. To know how he felt, that he was struggling as much as she, was the one thing holding her together.

"O come, Thou Dayspring, co-o-ome and cheer- our spirits by Thine a-a-advent here."

 _Disperse the gloomy clouds of night_

 _And death's dark shadows put to flight_


End file.
